


The Hope of It All

by TaylorMay1912



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alive Mary Winchester, Alternate Universe - Bodyguard, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Biphobia, Bodyguard Castiel (Supernatural), Canon-Typical Violence, Courtship, Dead John Winchester, Dreams and Nightmares, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Good Sibling Sam Winchester, Inspired by Princess Diaries, LGBTQ Themes, M/M, Modern Royalty, Openly Bisexual Dean Winchester, POV Dean Winchester, Past John Winchester/Mary Winchester, Pining Dean Winchester, Prince Dean Winchester, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, mention of gay conversion therapy, not explicit though
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-13
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:00:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 23,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26439106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TaylorMay1912/pseuds/TaylorMay1912
Summary: Prince Dean Winchester has a decision to make. He needs to find a suitable marriage partner before the end of summer, or else he has to go through with an arranged marriage to Lady Carmen Porter.But, every time he thinks about a suitable partner, he finds himself falling back to his bodyguard, and best friend, Castiel Novak.That's not going to turn into a problem, though...right?
Relationships: Castiel & Dean Winchester, Castiel/Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester/Other(s)
Comments: 27
Kudos: 76





	1. I was lightning before the thunder

Prince Dean let out a heavy sigh as soon as he climbed into the limousine. He didn’t _want_ to attend those stupid Parliament meetings, but his mother demanded he makes an appearance to them, at the very least to ‘show a united front’ for the family. Whatever that means. All Dean knows is he wanted to jump onto the court floor and start throwing punches at Viscount Shurley, who suggested reinstating gay conversion therapy.

“All good, Your Highness?” Dean was pulled out of his angry mood at the sound of his bodyguard’s voice. Castiel had the most lovely, gravelly tone. Dean wouldn’t ever admit that to his friend, though. There was some type of line there, and he couldn’t bring himself to cross it.

“Just peachy, Cas. You know me, always doing great after an argument with Viscount ‘Holier-Than-Thou’ about why homosexuality isn’t a sin and hasn’t been seen as a sin in a very long time,” He rubbed his face into his hands. Cas gave him a piercing look in the rear-view mirror. “Yeah, no kidding,”

“I could have him disappear for a while, if you like, sir,” He kept his tone light and joking, but Dean knew when Cas referred to him as ‘sir’, he was being serious. He chuckled, shaking his head.

“That’s quite alright, buddy. He’s probably not going to be on the council for much longer, anyway. Not if I have any say in it. That shit won’t fly by me,”

“Thank you,” Cas spoke quietly, and Dean remembered a night of drunken confessions shared between them. It was four years ago now, just after Dean’s twenty-first birthday. Cas had only been Dean’s bodyguard for a few months, but Dean managed to get under his skin enough to coax him to share a bottle of whiskey. Together, they shared secrets they refuse to tell anybody else. Cas revealed he was banished from his family’s home because of his sexuality. Dean heaved out his fear of becoming just like his abusive father, cold and unloving towards the ones who love him. Cas had rested a comforting hand on his shoulder, telling him ‘You are nothing like John, Dean. You’re kind, compassionate, and fiercely loyal. You’re going to be a great King one day.’ There was a heavy pause, and Dean had ignored the stinging tears in his eyes. It was also the night Dean told him he had struggled with his sexuality for a time, but since his father’s death, he started coming to terms with having feelings for both men and women. He hadn’t told anyone else that secret except for Sam. Cas guarded it with his life, just like the rest of Dean.

“Your Highness?” Cas once again pulled Dean out of his head, and Dean rubbed his forehead in frustration.

"Sorry, Cas. Not very focused. What else is on the agenda today?” He grabbed a bottle of water and cracked it open.

“The Queen demands an audience with you and your brother, regarding your Summer Solstice masquerade party,” Cas pulled up outside the gates of Castle Winchester, getting waved straight through. Dean always loved his home, but he’s well aware it is not normal to have been brought up in a literal castle. The ancient cobblestone driveway, the sandstone water fountain, the 16th century-inspired French architecture, massive sweeping gardens―he knew it wasn’t a normal home, by any stretch of the imagination, but Dean still enjoyed the magnificence of it every time.

“Thrilling, I’m sure. She’s probably wanting me to add a few fifty or so stupid members of Parliament since I am to be King one day, and it’s ‘the right thing to do’,” Dean rolled his eyes, and Cas made a tutting noise.

“What would your mother think, Winchester?” He murmured, and Dean bit his lip to stop laughing loudly as the door opened. Cas was probably the only staff member of the Royal Family with enough security in his friendship with the Crown Prince to refer to him as such. Dean got a kick out of it every time he did, so Cas made sure to do it as often as possible.

“Probably that I’m being a brat and I need to wise up, Cas. What would you tell me to do?” Dean waited as Cas shut the driver’s door, and together they made their way up the front steps into the palace, Castiel always a step behind Dean. He always maintained propriety, even when they were just hanging around the castle. It only annoyed Dean a little, but it’s not like Cas can help it. It is his _job_ , after all.

“Far be it from me to tell the great Dean Winchester what to do, Your Highness,” Cas’ eyes were jovial, however, as he continued. “But I wouldn’t hesitate to suggest perhaps being a little bit kinder to Queen Mary. She does love you dearly, despite your belief she is only focused on the kingdom,”

“But you wouldn’t worry too much if Viscount Shurley’s invitation got lost in the mail, would you, Novak?” Dean smirked at Cas' answering silence, giving Head of Security, Bobby, a nod as he continued walking towards his mother’s Tea Room. He knew she’d be there. She always is when she wanted to talk to him. He ignored the great paintings of past kings and queens dressing the main hall as they slowly made their way into the Tea Room.

The room was probably Dean’s least favourite in the entire palace. Mary had redecorated it in a soft pastel pink, which didn’t faze Dean so much. It was the furnishings she added that didn’t sit right with Dean. All of the couches were the type of leather that stuck to your clothes, the floorboards were deliberately creaky so Mary could always know where you were, and the paintings were garish and over-the-top. To make matters worse, she always had that stupid lavender-scented candle burning by her desk. It’s supposed to help people to relax, but Dean tenses every time he smells lavender because of her.

“Finally, what took you so long?” Mary huffed out as Dean and Castiel entered, Cas giving Mary a courteous bow before taking his post near the door, next to Sam’s bodyguard, Gabriel. Dean raised a snarky eyebrow at his mother, before giving her an apologetic smile.

“Sorry, Mom,” He approached her to kiss her on the cheek before taking a seat on the couch next to his nervous-looking brother. Sam was only a few years younger than Dean, but at first glance, anybody would think Sam was older. He towered over Dean now, and Dean hated it. “Parliament ran longer than expected. Is everything okay?” A weighted silence settled over the room, and Dean glanced between Sam, Mary and Mary’s Chief of Staff, Arthur. Sam and Arthur gave Dean worried looks, but Mary looked like she was close to screaming bloody murder.

“No, it is not,” Mary’s voice was cold, and Dean could hear how very close she was to cracking. She pulled a tabloid up from beside her and practically threw it at Dean’s face. He caught it, frown creasing his forehead as he looked at the front page. _Crown Prince caught sucking face with Governor’s SON?!_ Dean squinted at the seedy photo, noticing how one of the men looks _slightly_ like him, but he was holding a full glass of beer in the hand not gripping the other man’s neck. That doesn’t sound right. Dean _rarely_ drank at public outings, and _never_ beer, for this exact reason.

“When was this?” Dean flipped open the page, scanning the poorly-written article for any way to reconcile the photo to a memory.

“From last week, at the launch of Versace’s charity ball,” Mary’s voice was clipped. Dean let out a low laugh.

“I didn’t drink that night, Cas can vouch for that, and _please_ ,” He threw the magazine down. “Why have the Governor’s son when there were literally _models_ at the party?” There was a collection of laughter being poorly masked for coughs from the door and from beside Dean on the couch. Mary glared at Sam, who stopped immediately. She softened her gaze slightly before turning to Castiel.

“Can you vouch for him, Novak?” She raised an eyebrow, pursing her lips tightly.

“Yes, Your Majesty. The Prince didn’t have any alcohol that night, and he was never anywhere near the Governor or his son. But he is right about the models, ma'am,” Dean shot Cas a faux betrayed look, and Cas gave him the smallest of smirks.

“Thank you, Castiel,” Mary’s tone started to ease up. “That’ll make it easier to smooth this over. We’ve already reached out to the Governor, but it doesn’t help that his son was so trashed that night, he honestly doesn’t even remember leaving the hotel for the ball,” She sighed, turning her gaze back to Dean. “I’m sorry, son. I didn’t mean to get angry. It’s just not the best time for things like this to come out into the tabloids,”

“What do you mean ‘things like this’?” Dean leaned forwards. Mary squinted.

“Dean, this type of thing coming out just before the announcement of your engagement to Lady Carmen Porter, it wouldn’t do too nicely, now would it?” She tilted her head, giving him a kind smile.

“Engagement? What? _Who_?” Dean felt his entire body freeze. Mary let out a disappointed sigh.

“I was hoping you’d remember your agreement to the marriage. I understand you and Carmen were sixteen when you made it, but still. These contracts are somewhat binding. We can break them of course, but I’d prefer not to,” She smiled. “And now seems like the perfect time to announce your plan for marriage. You two can start your official engagement tour with your masquerade party,” There was an excited gleam in her eye.

“Sure, there’s just one problem with that, Mother,” Dean gave her a terse smile. “I _don’t_ want to marry her,”

“But Dean, you two were so excited about it when you were sixteen. What’s changed?”

“She’s a bitch, Mom. Also, I’m fairly certain if you dig hard enough, you’ll find she’s not exactly your biggest fan,”

“Marriage takes work, Dean. You are doing this. None of this ‘marry for love’ crap. You are not your brother,” Mary gave Sam a warm smile. “You can marry for love, my dear,”

“What?” Sam blinked.

“Oh yeah, sure. Since he’s not the _crown_ prince, he can do whatever the fuck he wants, right?” Dean crossed his arms. “What if I can find someone better than her? If I can find a better alternative, will you let me? Trust me, Mom. You _won’t_ want her in our family, just give me a little bit more time than one damn week,”

“Geez, _what_ did she do?” Sam muttered. Dean gave him a warning look. Mary held up her hand to stop Dean’s response.

“Fine, fine. If you can find yourself a suitable replacement before the end of the summer, then you can marry her instead of Carmen. Happy?” Mary crossed her arms. Dean mirrored her.

“ _Her_? What gave you the impression it was going to be a woman?” He could hear the candle flickering away on Mary’s desk, it was _that_ quiet. “Oh hey, yeah, by the way, Mom, I’m bisexual. Thought you ought to know,” He shrugged. “Sam and Cas do.”

“Oi,” Sam glared at Dean. “Don’t turn this on me, and you...” He tilted his head. “You told Cas?” He gave Cas a curious glance, and Cas bowed his head as a nod. “Wow. Okay. Loyal bodyguard you’ve got there,”

“Dean,” Mary’s voice was...strange. Dean had never heard her speak like that before. She sounded close to tears. He stared at her, and she got up to pull him in for a hug. _That_ was unexpected. Dean can count on one hand the number of times his mother had hugged him. “Thank you for telling me, but,” She chewed her lip, tears welling in her eyes as she considered him seriously. “Is that going to change anything?”

“It just opens up twice as many doors,” Dean smirked. He heard the room echo with low chuckles.

“Just as long as they’re at least a Lord or Lady, I don’t mind,” She smiled, and Dean pointedly ignored the quiet voice in the back of his mind. It was the same voice he heard in the middle of the night when nobody was around. That voice tells him he was crushing on his bodyguard. The bodyguard who is _definitely_ not a Lord, and is _definitely_ not a contender.

But dear God, does he want his best friend to be a contender.


	2. Eyes of the bluest skies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I've decided this will definitely be a slow burn, and I really want to try and stick to that. We'll see how we go with that though.
> 
> Enjoy!

Dean pretended not to notice Castiel pacing behind him half the time. It was always better than the alternative. But as he braced himself for the crowd outside the doors of the palace, he found himself listening to Cas’ footsteps to calm himself down.

“Your Highness?” He felt a gentle touch on his back, and Dean's chest swelled up like a balloon. The nervous energy he had all morning had come to a tipping point. “You don’t have to do this, you know, Dean. Just say the word, we’ll cancel the gathering,”

“I’m alright, Cas.” But he took hold of Cas’ shoulder anyway. “Just need a minute,” Cas gave him a levelling stare. “Tell me something, anything. Distract me, man, I’m...” Dean took in a deep, heaving breath.

“You need to _calm down_ ,” Cas gave him a small smile at the heated glare Dean shot him. “Remember the time you pretended you weren’t royal, and we snuck into an open-air movie theatre? You spent the entire movie trying to convince me to toss popcorn at you, and I spent the entire movie worried you were going to be spotted,” Dean let out a breathy chuckle. “What was the movie, Dean? Tell me everything you remember,"

"Uh, it was some horror film, an early 2000’s remake of _Friday the 13th_. A shitty attempt at a remake although the actors were kinda alright. One of them even kinda looked like Sammy, just without all the stupid, floppy hair,” Dean felt his heartbeat starting to slow.

“That’s right,” Cas took hold of Dean’s hand gripping his shoulder, squeezing it. “What else?”

“Uh, the popcorn was stale as hell, the drinks were too watery, and you flinched so bad when Jason came out of the river,” He chuckled. “Big, scary bodyguard like you, frightened of a shitty slasher film. It’s kinda funny, like watching a Hell’s Angel ride a moped,”

“I jumped because people screamed and I wanted to protect you,” Cas didn’t look Dean directly in the eyes, so Dean scoffed.

“My hero,” He rolled his eyes before pulling Cas in for a quick hug. The panic in his chest had nearly completely dissipated, so he patted Cas’ shoulder and let him go. “Alright, let’s kick it in the ass.” Cas let out a frustrated sigh, and Dean smirked before turning towards the front door to greet the crowd filled with reporters. 

There was a podium already set up, with Arthur greeting the press, the palace guards stationed near the gate. The crowd couldn’t see it, but Dean knew they were all armed to the teeth. Every single guard there had at least five types of weapons on them at all times, and Dean knew Cas had about seven on his person at the current moment. He felt the gun holster hit his hip when he hugged his bodyguard and touched the knives strapped onto his shoulders when he had clung to him. He pulled his focus away from wondering where the other weapons were, to zero in on the podium as he slowly approached the microphone.

“His Royal Highness, Prince Dean Winchester!” Arthur gave the crowd one final wide smile before stepping to the side, giving Dean a bow. Dean let out a deep breath, shooting Cas one last nervous glance. Cas gave him a small nod, and Dean put on his crowd-pleasing smile.

“Good morning, everybody. Hope it’s not too warm for you. That sun is heating us up, isn’t it?” This was good, Arthur had told him. Keep the conversation light in the beginning, before giving them the reason behind the press conference. “I’m excited for the Summer Solstice masquerade ball we’re throwing to raise funds for charities each member of the family holds dear to their heart. I’m excited to announce my charity of choice is The Trevor Project, a national organisation providing crisis intervention and suicide prevention for LGBTQIA+ youth,” Dean paused as the crowd roared with applause, and it made him smile to see how much approval he was garnering. “I have many friends and allies who are a part of the LGBTQIA+ community who have benefited from The Trevor Project, and,” He took in a quick breath, and he didn’t even have to look to know Cas was shuffling himself closer to Dean, ready for anything. He held a real smile at the unswerving loyalty. “As a bisexual man myself, the charity means a great deal to me.” There was a brief pause as the crowd absorbed what Dean said, and once it settled, the roars of approval cascaded all through the castle grounds. Tears rose to Dean’s eyes, but he controlled himself enough to hold them back, grinning widely. The crowd started to settle, and Dean took the opportunity to thank them. 

“It means so much to me that you’ve opened your hearts to who I am. Thank you. But this isn’t all,” Arthur told Dean he could go slightly off-script with the second announcement since the engagement search wasn’t as detrimental to the family’s reputation if not handled carefully. Dean had tried not to feel miffed by that suggestion. “Apparently, I’ve got until the end of the summer to find a suitable husband or wife, so,” He made a casual shrug. “If you could come up with some of your best bachelors and bachelorettes― strictly lords, ladies or higher; I know, I know,” He waved his hands at the outcry of disappointment. “Queen’s orders, unfortunately. But if you could collate some of your favourites, I’ll have our team go over some of your suggestions as well as their own. Now, questions?” He caught the eye of Pamela Barnes, a reporter for Daily News.

“Your Highness, does this mean we can’t include any civilians on the list?”

“Why, Miss Barnes? Did you want to put yourself on the list?” Dean chuckled as Pamela blushed slightly. “You’re more than welcome to create two lists, of course. One with serious contenders, and one with a little more...freedom,”

“Can we put members of your staff on there, Your Highness?” There were small titters of laughter from the crowd.

“Did you have anyone in particular in mind, Miss Barnes?” Dean raised an eyebrow, maintaining his smile and eye contact with Pamela. She widened her eyes, realising she may have spoken out of turn, and shook her head.

“No, Your Highness. Of course not,” She dropped her gaze.

“Humour me, then. If you don’t dare say who now, perhaps because the staff member is currently present, then by all means, please,” He laughed warmly. “Add them to the list,” He felt Cas’ hand gently touch his shoulder, so he turned his head to hear Cas’ whisper.

“Her Majesty is asking for you to finish up here, Your Highness,” Cas kept his eyes low, but Dean didn’t miss the slight blush on Cas’ face. He couldn’t help but entertain the idea Pamela Barnes was alluding to Cas when she mentioned ‘members of staff’, and that perhaps, Cas caught the suggestion as well.

“Sorry, everybody. I’m being called away. But I’ll be keeping an eye out for all your potential, and no-so-potential, suggestions. Have a beautiful day!” He gave the crowd a wink and a regal wave before turning to escape back into the castle. The roars from the crowd gave him a massive rush of adrenaline as the realisation settled in. He was completely and utterly out. Nobody to surprise anymore. He no longer had to keep his conversations strictly cordial when around attractive men. The release was dampened only slightly when he turned to smile at Cas, a reminder of the one person he _can’t_ have, on pain of costing Cas his livelihood. Arthur Ketch wandered over to the two of them, his phone in hand, a big grin on his face.

“That went over fantastically. The hashtags ‘Find The Prince A Lord’ and ‘Find The Prince A Lady' are trending worldwide, with everybody from the Kardashians to the British Royal Family offering suggestions,” Arthur beamed.

“Trending, already?”

“Not just those, there are also a few smaller ones making the rounds. Hashtag ‘Yass Queen Dean’ and hashtag...um,” Arthur had the fortitude to look slightly mortified, glancing at Castiel.

“Arthur...” Dean gestured for him to continue.

“Um, hashtag...um...” Arthur brought his voice down to a low whisper and kept his eyes trained on his phone. “ ‘Get Cas that Royal Ass’, sir,” Dean froze, and he could see Cas seize up just the same. “I’m sorry, sir...sir?” Arthur frowned as Dean started to shake with silent laughter. Cas smirked, biting his lip to hide his laugh. Dean let his laugh bellow out, echoing down the halls.

“Wooooooow,” He wiped away a tear, holding his ribs as he caught his breath. “That didn’t take them very long then, did it, Castiel?” Cas snickered. Arthur still looked floored by the response.

“Your Highness, I-“

“It’s alright, Arthur. I opened myself up for this, and I have to hand it to them, that’s beautiful. Have anybody pulled up any legitimate suggestions though?” That sobered Cas up a little, and he put on his stoic face again, but Dean could see the crinkle near his eyes.

“Some, sir. We’re looking further into them, but you’re welcome to search through the suggestions if you have any preferences, of course.” Dean nodded as Arthur gave him a small bow before hurrying off.

“So,” Dean turned to Castiel, who still held his professional stance. He smirked as he noticed Cas’ eyebrow twitch, the only sign he was close to breaking composure. “That went better than expected,”

“You did very well, Your Highness,”

“Thank you for standing by my side. Couldn’t have done it without you,”

“Are you saying that to me as your bodyguard, sir, or...?”

“As my friend, Cas,”

“Well then,” Cas gave Dean one of his near-smiles, his posture relaxing ever so slightly. “Of course, Dean. I’ll always be here for you.” Dean smiled warmly at the admission. He vehemently ignored the melting feeling in his chest.

“Good. I’ll always need you around,” Colour rose to his cheeks as he recognised how romantic that sounded out of context. Cas dropped his gaze to the floor, frowning slightly. Shit. Maybe even _in context_. “Glad you’re here, buddy.” He clapped his hand on Cas’ shoulder before turning on his heel. Good save, Winchester.

**********

“So, Dean,” Charlie grabbed a bowl of popcorn, gesturing for the prince to enter into the theatre room. “We’ve already collated a list of potentials for you.” Charlie was Dean’s publicist and PR manager. Arthur liked to oversee the major events for the Royal Family, but Dean requested the handling of presentation be organised by his girl because she was the best of them. Arthur couldn’t think of a good enough reason to fight the point, so he relented. He was sitting in the theatre room, arms crossed with his lips pouted only slightly. “Any of these you want to meet, we can send out invitations to the party. You’ll probably be dancing with a _lot_ of different people, so you better be prepared,”

“What if I don’t want to keep dancing with one of them?” Dean took a seat next to Charlie, noticing Sam lounging lazily on the couch off in the corner.

“You could always come up with a signal for Cas to come in and save the day,” Sam smirked. Dean sent an uncooked kernel flying towards him, and it bounced gently off Sam’s forehead. Sam held his hand to his chest, feigning pain as he shook his head at his bodyguard standing firm near the door. “Gabe, we’ve talked about this. You’re supposed to take a bullet for me, dude,”

“It didn’t seem life-threatening, _sir_ ,” Gabriel smirked.

“You know what you can do with that ‘sir’ crap, Gabriel,” He pulled a bitchface at his guard, who rolled his eyes. “You two are welcome to join us on the couches. There isn’t an imminent threat,” Gabriel rolled his shoulders, a grin on his face as he galloped over to lounge on Sam’s left. Sam squinted at Cas. “That includes you, Castiel. You are Dean’s friend. Come support him as he decides who to ruin his life with, _forever_.” Sam waggled his fingers playfully towards Dean. Cas looked at Dean, waiting. Dean gave him a nod and patted the vacant chair next to him. 

It was like watching a film scene change. Castiel’s switch from ‘royal bodyguard’ to ‘loyal friend’ made his shoulders relax, his smile creep out, and his walk changed from a stiff, calculated one to a lazy saunter. He sat down next to Dean and swiped some popcorn from Dean’s container.

“Where is Mother Dearest? I thought she’d want to be a part of the itty-bitty selection committee,” Dean threw one his pieces of popcorn up in the air, catching it easily in his mouth.

“Her Majesty thought it would be prudent to leave the decision entirely up to you, Your Highness,” Arthur spoke through his tightened lips.

“Fair enough. Well, Charlie,” Dean leaned forward, mustering up as much enthusiasm as he could. “Hit me with your best shots.” Charlie clicked her little slideshow remote, revealing the title card ‘Dean Winchester’s First Round of Potential Princes and Princesses’ on the screen. She passed around black folders to everyone in the small audience.

“Alright, so first up, our first potential is a lady, since this list was started before you came out to the public, and I won’t stop telling you how proud I am of you for that,” Charlie paused to beam towards Dean. He fluttered his hands in dismissal, hiding his flustered grin. “Behold,” She clicked to the next slide. “Lady Josie Sands of Kilmourn,” There were loud sounds of shuffling papers as everybody flicked open their books. The photo Charlie provided was of a pretty red-headed lady, and Dean was already wary. He knew something about the Sands, but he just couldn’t recall...

“Wasn’t she the daughter of the Lord who used to go hunting for deer with Dad?” Sam commented. Dean clicked his fingers.

“That’s it, that’s her. Nope. Don’t like her,”

“Okay,” Charlie glanced between the two. “Of course, you don’t need to explain to me, sir, but...”

“She’s a homophobic bitch,” Dean shrugged. “Dropped a couple of slurs during our few conversations we were forced to have, and I...” He shook his head. Charlie nodded.

“Good decision, sir,” She clicked to the next slide. Dean recognised the photo instantly. “This is...”

“Lord Benjamin Lafitte of Southern Epcot,” He made an impressed face. “Haven’t seen Benny in years,”

“Weren’t you two friends back in high school?” Sam frowned. Dean nodded absently. “Didn’t know he was gay,”

“He’s not, Your Highness,” Charlie smiled at Sam. Dean flipped to the next page. “He’s pansexual, and he put in a request personally,”

“Really?” Dean huffed out a laugh. “Alright then. He’s a contender, for sure.” They continued through the list without much more comment, filtering through the guys and girls, until one name came up. “Who’s this guy?”

“Ah,” Cas stared hard at the screen. “Lord Alistair Devin of Ronaldson. He...he was a, ahem, ‘friend’ of my sister’s friend, Meg,” He twitched, and Dean frowned.

“Sounds like you don’t like the guy, Cas,”

“Well, uh,” He exhaled. “He tormented her, quite honestly. She came running to Anna, and Alistair followed her. I, uh...”

“You beat the shit outta him, didn’t you?” Dean caught his nervous gaze. Cas nodded curtly. “That’s all I need to know. Charlie,” He made a cutting motion on his throat.

“Roger, roger,” She clicked to the end of the slide and turned the screen off. “That’s the first batch done. We’ll have a few others, but out of the ones you’re interested in, were there any you wanted to follow up on straight away?” Charlie clicked the lights back on and everybody blinked to adjust to the lighting change. Dean flicked through the folder.

“Well, definitely Benny. Even if we don’t work out as far as courtship goes, he was always a laugh and I’d like to catch up with him again. This Fergus Crowley guy doesn’t look too bad, bit rough around the edges, but I’m down with that. And, maybe Lady Lisa Braedon? She seems nice. But Benny first,” Charlie nodded and took the folder from Dean. There was a weird queasy feeling in his gut, and he knew it was just nerves about the idea of marrying a total stranger, but if he and Benny clicked, that could be some type of reassurance. Maybe.


	3. If you think I'm pretty, you should see me in a crown

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Took a bit of time with this one, and if you guys are noticing heavy references in previous chapters to 'Princess Diaries 2: Royal Engagement', that would be correct. Also, if you can guess what influenced the dream sequence in this chapter, I'll give you an emoji cookie! Enjoy!

After attending fifty meetings in three days, watching Charlie make a million phone calls, and hearing Sam make a few hundred jabs at Dean’s waning bachelorhood, Dean let out a loud sigh of relief as he shut the door to his bedroom suite the night before the ball. He rested his head against his door, scrunching his eyes tight to try and relieve the pressing headache needling away in his brain. He took in a deep breath and nearly gagged. _Roses_? His eyes flew open to find a bouquet of probably seventy roses dressed in a glass vase by his chaise lounge.

“Sent to you from an admirer, Your Highness,” Cas called from his station by Dean’s bedroom door. Dean had told him multiple times being by his bedside as he slept was entirely unnecessary, but Cas maintained he only stuck around until he knew Dean was asleep before heading into his bedroom next door. Dean raised a questioning eyebrow as Cas and motioned for him to relax. “I believe it was Fergus Crowley,”

“And what? He can’t do a little bit of research before he tried to woo me?” Dean crossed his arms. “I _hate_ roses,”

“I know,” Cas spoke lowly, and Dean smirked.

“Do you now?”

“You prefer orchids. Out of all the flowers the Queen put in her garden, you gravitated towards the orchids because they looked close to death,” Cas gave Dean a fond look. “And you nursed them back to health.” Dean chuckled.

“Don’t remember telling any interviewers _that_ story,”

“Her Majesty told me,”

“Did she now?” Dean tutted. “Mom can be sentimental, I suppose,” He glanced back at the flowers, a grimace on his face. “What am I supposed to do with those?”

“Burn them?” Cas shrugged.

“That’s a bit harsh,” Dean smirked. “Let’s arrange for them to be split and sent to every member of Parliament who voted for the marriage equality bill. If there’s not enough, do you think we could order some more roses?”

“Of course, Your Highness,” Cas gave him a polite head bow, before reaching into his suit jacket pocket. “These were also sent for you, from other admirers. I believe you’ll appreciate letters more than an expensive bouquet,” He handed Dean a stack of five envelopes, some thick and some thin. Dean smiled.

“That’s more like it. It’s called ‘courtship’ for a reason, isn’t it?”

“You might notice the first one is from your old friend, Lord Benjamin Laffite,” There was a strange look on Cas’ face as he spoke the name like he was trying to swallow a pill dry.

“What’s _that_ look for, Cas?” Cas widened his eyes and bit his lip. “What’d you do?”

“I didn’t want to, sir, believe me. But Bobby asked me to check the letters before we gave them to you, for security reasons, of course,”

“Of course,” Dean nodded. “You do that for all my correspondence. Why’s it different this time around?” Cas opened his mouth to say, but something got caught in his throat, so he dropped his head down in a small bow. “Suppose I’ll find out soon enough. I’ll take these to bed with me. You’re welcome to join me,” Dean’s heart raced from his chest to his tongue, dancing across it in a nervous foxtrot. He swallowed it down. “In my room, I mean. We can share a bottle of...I think Charlie sent me a few bottles of rosé, that brand you like, and read through what these sappy idiots are saying to try and win me over,” He flashed Cas a goofy grin, and Cas gave him a tired smile.

“Thank you, but I’ve already read the letters and I don’t particularly want to do it again if it’s all the same to you. Reading what Lord Lafitte...” His smile looked stretched on his face. “It doesn’t matter. I’ll keep guard at your door, Your Highness.” He gave Dean a gracious bow as Dean stood up.

“If you insist, Cas,” Dean leaned against his door, giving him a small smile. “Goodnight.”

“Good night, Dean.”

With that, Dean closed his bedroom door. He tried not to feel hurt at the soft rejection, shaking himself off, stripping out of his clothes and climbing under the covers. He laid the letters out in front of him, picking up Benny’s first, a small smile on his face.

‘ _Sir,_

_Please allow me to extend my congratulations for your courage to announce to the world who you truly are. Your citizens are proud of you, and your kingdom is proud of you._

_I’m sure by now, you have been informed of my interest in possibly pursuing a romantic courtship with you. I still look back on our time together in high school fondly. If I may be so bold, you were a constant feature in some of my more salacious daydreams. It didn’t help that I got to see you almost every day covered in mud and dirt from playing football for the school team. It played around in my head multiple times, Dean, and I want to be honest with you. I’ve thought about what it would be like to kiss you, hold you, hear you moaning my name as I_ ―’

“Jesus Christ!” Dean yelped loudly as he continued to read the lewd description of what Benny used to imagine doing with him. His bedroom door burst open, and Castiel bounded in, weapon in hand. Dean pulled the covers up to try and afford himself a sense of modesty, well aware of how flushed his face was. Cas frowned, putting the safety back on his gun and tucking it back into his holster.

“My apologies, Your Highness,” He straightened his back, dropping his gaze to the ground. Dean let out a heavy breath, and Cas brought his eyes back to the prince. “Sir? Are you alright?”

“I’m...I’m fine, Castiel,” Dean tucked the letter away, fully aware Cas had read _all_ of the letters, meaning he _knows_ what Benny had said he wanted to do to Dean.

“You’re reading Lord Lafitte’s letter, aren’t you, sir?” There was thinly-veiled snark underneath the question, and Dean blushed.

“Just started, but humour me. Does it get worse?”

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean, Your Highness,” Dean flashed his eyes to Cas, and yep, he had a flicker of a smirk on his face. “Although, I must say, the man has some courage to write that in a letter. Surely, he knows we check all your correspondences,” Dean didn’t know how to respond to that, and Cas straightened his back. “If you have only just gotten to his suggestive words, and you’re not comfortable from his implication of wanting to know what you sound like...” He flickered his gaze to the floor. “Then trust me, it gets a lot more explicit from there. What would you have me do?”

“Nothing, don’t worry about it. I’ll just...read this another time, I guess,” Dean huffed out a laugh. “Guy’s got a lot of nerve, but I dunno...there’s something commending about his honesty. Anyway. Night, Cas.”

“Good night, sir.” Cas gave a small nod and left, shutting the door softly behind him.

**********

_Silk, ribbon, lace...the perfumed air tickled Dean’s nose as he made his rounds through the party. The music was playing loudly, all drums and guitar riffs and bass drops. All eyes were on him_ _―_ _tiny pinpricks staring from behind their porcelain masks, offering him callous smiles. Rough hands, sharp nails, warm fingers wrap around his arms as he cuts through the crowd. Dean knew he was looking for someone, but they were nowhere to be seen. But he could feel their eyes on him, always watching him, even from the far wings of the grand hall._

_“Dean?” The Southern drawl was unmistakable, and the swimming crowd parted to reveal Dean’s old friend, Benny, wearing a vermillion leather mask. His smile was all teeth, and he held out a hand. Going against every screaming nerve in his body, Dean accepted his hand. Benny pulled Dean and together they started waltzing through the crowd. Benny gave him a softer smile, even as his hands dug harder into Dean’s shoulder and hip. “It’s good to see you again, Chief,” He breathed against Dean’s neck, but the prince was still looking...searching for someone...and he knew they were here. They’re always here. As Dean was waltzed around the room, he started to notice the party patrons were becoming more aggressive in their affection towards Dean, and Benny was pulling him towards it. Low snarls and gnashing teeth ripped through the crowd. He tried to pull away, but Benny had an iron-clad grip around his body._

_“I...please, Benny,” Dean reached to pull the mask off Benny’s face, but the leather stuck to his hands, tearing piece by piece at his skin. Dean couldn’t help the sob that fell from his lips, forcing his eyes shut. Benny’s hands were ripped from his body, and the masquerade revellers were silenced. Even the music became muted. Dean was left all alone, with blistered hands and heart pounding in his chest. Soft, melodious strings started playing over the soft notes of a piano. Hands, soft and gentle, caressed Dean’s face, and he opened his eyes to see Castiel wiping away his tears. He was dressed in a violent shade of white and red, his mask a bejewelled cornucopia of pearls and rubies. But those eyes...Dean would know those eyes anywhere. Cas pulled Dean into his chest, and together they swayed across the ballroom floor, sounds of water cascading in over the gentle piano. Dean glanced down to see they were standing in shallow pools of blood, all the guests only partially recognisable face-down on the glistening floor. But Dean was not afraid. Cas twirled him around, pressing his chest into Dean’s back as he wrapped his arms around the prince._

_“They don’t deserve you, my love. You can taste the malice in their blood. You’ll never truly be free until you realise it’s always been me.” Castiel murmured in Dean’s ear, pressing a soft kiss to his earlobe, his neck, his cheek..._

...and Dean was greeted with the bright morning light searing into his face, cocooned in his doona. He blinked, watching the scene that was playing in his dream dance faintly in the back of his mind.

“Good morning, sir,” Castiel gave him a cordial smile from his bedroom door. Dean made a non-committal noise, blearily rubbing his eyes. “I organised for your breakfast to be sent to your room today, so we can go over your expectations from me for tonight,”

“Cas, you already know what to do,” He spoke in a low croak.

“Just to be sure, though, we’ll go over everything,” He pulled the door open slightly, his smile softening to a more friendly expression. “Your coffee’s waiting, Dean.” He felt his heart quicken as he remembered the smile Dream-Cas gave him, and the words he murmured in his ear. Nightmares were a regular occurrence for the prince, but he’s usually woken by Castiel before they escalate. But this time...it didn’t escalate. Dean shook himself as he stretched. Oh well, it’s probably nothing to worry about, he thought.


	4. My friend, instant alibi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you're all doing well!  
> I'm trying to get around to finishing off my other fanfic so I can throw all of my focus onto this one because I really want to try to draw this out. So, be prepared to stick around for the long haul!

Dean fiddled nervously with his mask. It was a very pretty one―Charlie picked it out, with swirls of blues, pinks and purples. When Dean gave her a raised eyebrow about the colours, she shrugged.

“I just thought it’d be appropriate since ya know, first public appearance since you came out,” She frowned slightly. “But if you think it’s too tacky or commercial, I can―”

“It’s beautiful, Charlie, thank you,”

“Your Highness,” She gave him a warm smile and a small curtsey, and that was the end of it.

But now, standing in his bedroom, he felt a strange nervousness start to hike up his blood pressure. Charlie was right, this is his first time being seen by the public after he announced to the world who he truly is. His imagination ran wild, with imagery of people throwing stones and rotting vegetables all over the castle walls. He shook his head slightly as he stared in the mirror. Don’t be ridiculous, he thought. Besides, security wouldn’t let people in if they had such obvious plans to sabotage him. Everyone had so gracefully welcomed Dean’s honesty with open arms, even members of parliament were sending him congratulatory letters and gifts. He’ll be okay, and even if he isn’t, Castiel would keep him safe.

The man in question knocked politely on his open bedroom door, already suited up. Dean smiled at the midnight blue suit his bodyguard was wearing. All the other security guards have to wear their traditional black and white suits, but Dean fought for Cas to wear something more noticeable, so he can find him no matter where he is. He almost regrets it, because the tailored suit fit him like a glove, and made his eyes sparkle a little more than normal. It was maddening.

“Are you alright, Your Highness? Forgive me,” Cas frowned. “But you don’t look so good,”

“Yeah, but you...you look...” Dean’s tongue snagged on his teeth, so he swallowed and tried again. “Looking good, Novak,” Cas gave himself a quick once-over, a smile playing on his lips.

“Thank you, Dean. Are you ready, or do you want a few more minutes?” He considered his watch. “Her Majesty will only give us a scathing look if we show up five minutes late, but any more than that, and I can’t protect you,”

“Rude. I thought you’d protect me from anything,” Dean couldn’t hold back his grin as he pulled his mask over his face, before giving Castiel a slow twirl. “How do I look now?” The silence made Dean glance back to Cas, whose face told him nothing, but his eyes looked slightly glazed. That was probably just Dean getting his hopes up. “Castiel?”

“You look stunning as ever, Your Highness. Your suitors won’t know what to do with themselves.” Cas’ tone was flat, and he shifted his shoulders back uncomfortably. Odd.

“Hope they just keep their hands to themselves, though,” Dean huffed a laugh.

“If anyone makes you feel even the slightest bit uncomfortable...” Cas spoke lowly, a hint of a growl coming through. Dean widened his eyes, biting his lip to hide the smile on his face.

“I know, I know. You’ll tear them to shreds, propriety be damned,” Dean’s stomach wobbled at his words. His near-nightmare had been playing in his mind all day, and the image of Cas in a white suit covered in blood was doing more than just unnerve him. It startled him how _casually_ he had accepted the death of hundreds of people in his dream. He let out a deep breath, before giving Cas an honest smile. “Let the games begin.” Cas rolled his eyes.

“I truly hope you don’t consider winning your heart a game, Your Highness,”

“Why? You think if you were a contestant, you’d win?” Dean didn’t know what possessed him to let the quip fall from his lips, but Cas smirked.

“No doubt in my mind, sir.” Dean’s heart fought hard against the cage of his chest at the sincerity. He was _so_ royally screwed.

**********

The music was playing a grand fanfare as Dean slowly made his way into the ballroom. People were facing him, masked up, glasses in hand, and dressed to the nines. Dean gave them all a wide grin as the music quietened.

“Thank you all for attending this charity event!” He offered generous applause, much to his mother’s mild chagrin. She had hoped Dean would maintain at least a modicum of decorum, but of course, that was never going to happen. Dean beamed. “Please, help yourself to the food and drink, and be mindful of the various charity checkpoints near the beverage stands. Welcome, and enjoy the night!” People started to break away, and Dean was approached politely by various members of parliament. He maintained amicable conversation, sipping a glass of champagne, but it was when he saw Charlie trying to grab his attention from behind her rainbow mask, standing next to a familiar-looking stranger wearing a simple black velvet mask. Dean sought out Cas’ ever-steady gaze, and he gave Dean a small, reassuring smile. Showtime.

“Your Highness, may I present Lord Benjamin Lafitte of Southern Epcot?” Charlie gestured to the familiar stranger. Dean considered the stranger and tried to match him up with the memory of his old friend Benny. He could see the familiar blue eyes crinkling from behind his mask, but the beard was a new addition.

“Your Highness, it is an honour to remake your acquaintance,” Benny gave Dean a low bow.

“My Lord, it has been too long.” Dean smiled. Charlie gave Dean a curtsey, and he dismissed her with a nod. Benny held out his hand, and Dean held his warm smile as he accepted the man’s offer to dance.

They swayed together, keeping a respectable distance apart. Dean exhaled a nervous breath, and Benny noticed.

“Are you alright, Your Highness?” He tilted his head, and Dean smiled.

“I’m good, although you’re welcome to drop the formalities, if you wish, Benny,”

“Thank you, Dean. How have you been?” Benny pulled Dean the slightest bit closer, and Dean gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze.

“I’ve been doing good, how about yourself? How’s your family?”

“I’m doing well, and they’ve been good,” He left it at that, and Dean didn’t want to press it any further. “So, how goes the courtship life?”

“I’ll be honest, it’s already been draining. Already, suitors have been sending me flowers and presents. Although,” Dean smirked. “I have to admit, I _did_ appreciate your letter. You do realise all correspondence needs to be read by security, right?”

“Oh, _that’s_ why your boy keeps giving me strange looks,” Benny’s gaze flickered off to Dean’s left, where Dean knew Castiel was watching from, and Dean chuckled.

“That, and he’s just, you know, doing his job,”

“Making sure you’re safe?” Dean nodded. “You’ll always be safe with me, _cher_ ,” Benny pulled Dean close enough that Dean could feel the burly man’s breath dance across his face.

“Thank you,” Dean breathed, glancing nervously to Benny’s lips. The other man noticed and let out a low chuckle.

“I don’t think the Queen would appreciate you making a decision so quickly, Dean,” Benny brought his hand a little lower down Dean’s back, and Dean made a tutting noise, even as he felt butterflies become unsettled in his stomach at the suggestive move.

“Forgive me, my Lord, but I don’t think the Queen would appreciate your _boldness_ in assuming I was deciding so quickly the first place,” Dean kept his warm smile on his face to soften the blow of his words. Benny huffed another laugh but remained quiet. They broke apart as the song finished, and Benny took hold of Dean’s hand, pressing a kiss to the back of it as he bowed.

“Thank you for the dance, Your Highness,” Benny gave Dean a small smile as he watched Charlie make her way towards Dean with the next suitor in tow. Dean recognised Lady Cassandra Robinson of Girardeau but still turned to give Benny a gracious nod. “I do hope to hear from you soon.”

“I assure you, my Lord, you will.” And he meant it. He recalled Charlie mentioning their plan for the next seventy-three days, to give all top ten potential lords and ladies from tonight each a week to ‘woo’ Dean, even though Dean detested the idea, to begin with. A person cannot fall in love in a week, he had argued. But after his dance with Benny, he could see the potential of falling when the landing is someone as...comforting as Benny.

Dean continued to dance, keeping up an amicable conversation. Cassie was incredibly inviting, making Dean laugh. Her laughter itself was radiant, and Dean wanted to hear that sound again. She was also a contender, for sure. But as Dean continued to dance, he was struggling to remember names and faces, and the dancing had become a blur. He could vaguely remember Crowley, Bela, Mick, but the others left his memory as quickly as they arrived.

As the night drew to a close, he parted from his last dance partner...Cain, he thinks the man’s name was. Sam was standing by the stairs, holding two glasses, and Mary was beaming at him. Oh well, at least he can help Charlie narrow the list down to ten suitors, one for each week starting tomorrow. Dean’s eyes found Castiel’s from over near the exit door, and he felt a heavy stab hit his gut. At least he’ll still get to keep Castiel by his side, regardless of who he settles for. The bleak silver lining was faded like sidewalk chalk, but he refused to acknowledge the rain washing it away.


	5. You should know I'm temporary

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for bearing with me on this one. The story hit a wall, so I sat down and hashed out the rough chapter plan. I wasn't kidding when I said this was going to be a slow burn. Possibly forty-five chapters in total. So get comfortable, people.
> 
> Also, I'll probably add new tags as each chapter comes up because I have a tendency to tweak things as I go. Please, please, please pay attention to the tags before each chapter.
> 
> This one begins with a nightmare that is canon-typical violence, in a sense. So, please be prepared for that. If you don't want to read that, go to the first bit of non-italicised writing. Enjoy!

_He was running again. Roots snarled up from the earth, reaching out to trip him. But he had to keep on running. He couldn’t remember why, but he dared not turn around to see what was chasing him._

_He took a sharp turn, deeper into the castle grounds. Dean recognised the ancient tree he and Sam used to play games with, challenging each-other to climb as high as they can. He reached out to the low-hanging branch ignoring the rain pouring on his face. The bark was slippery as he hefted his feet up the trunk, but with the strength of his arms, he was able to pull himself onto the branch. The weight of a child on this old branch wasn’t enough to even make it move, but Dean had grown a lot since he was seven. He heard the wood splitting, and the stability of the branch dropped away in a fell swoop._

_He scrambled to cling onto something, anything, to save from falling, but he couldn’t. The tree had disappeared into swallowing darkness, and Dean felt cold air envelope him as he continued to free-fall. A figure was approaching him, falling faster and faster towards Dean. He frowned as the figure became clearer. It was a younger version of himself, dressed in his old Batman pyjamas, an angry look on his face._

_“You know what you did, you know you don’t deserve this!” The child screamed as he came into contact with Dean’s chest, pounding his tiny fists into the man’s body. Dean tried to speak, to calm his younger self, tell himself it wasn’t his fault Dad died, but no sound came out. He pulled his younger self in for a hug, and the child squirmed to get free._

_“No,” The voice was no longer that of a child’s, and it sounded like a menacing growl. Dean glanced down, still seeing the young version of himself, but the child’s face was...strange. His green eyes turned dark, and his mouth was cascading blood, sharp teeth bared. Dean’s arms fell through the child’s body and he hit himself in the chest, but the child still glared at him. “You don’t deserve anything.” The child snarled, and he lunged forwards, jaw unhinged wide enough to reveal fifty rows of razor-blades for teeth. The child clamped his wide mouth over the entirety of Dean’s neck and clamped down..._

Dean shot upright in his bed, drenched in a hot sweat, and felt arms pull him in for a tight hug. He was okay, it was just a nightmare...just another nightmare...this was Cas. It was Cas. He glanced around his room, and saw his door open slightly, letting the sunlight from his suite spill into the darkness. Dean gripped his duvet tightly into his fists and forced himself to count and name the darkened shapes on his dresser near the door. Five things, he thought as he forced his breathing into a slower pace. His mask from the party, his box of watches, the tie he wanted to wear today, the candle Cas had bought him for Christmas two years ago, and his phone. Dean heaved out a low breath, pursing his lips so the sound came out in a whistle.

“Dean?” The soft murmur of Cas’ voice near his ear pulled Dean’s gaze from his dresser. Castiel moved back to give Dean some breathing room, and he appreciated Cas’ gentle squeeze of his shoulders. “You’re safe. You’re okay. Another nightmare?” Dean couldn’t bring himself to speak, so he nodded quickly. Cas made a low humming noise. “Did you count and identify the things on your dresser?” Dean nodded again, and Cas brought his right hand to cup Dean’s chin, making him look Cas directly in his blue eyes. “You remember the trip your family took to the Summer Isles last year?”

“Yeah,” Dean breathed out, voice still cloudy with sleep.

“Tell me everything you remember about your family’s saltbox house we stayed in for that weekend,” He smiled as Dean cleared his throat.

“Uh, it was stupid warm in that bedroom. The dining room smelled like Gabe’s candy because he liked to sit his chocolate near the window. The beach was really nice, though. Sam insisted on going for huge hikes every morning, and you truly thought Gabe was going to kill him on Sunday morning, so you offered to go with him and Gabe guarded me while you and Sam went for your stupid jog,” He grinned. “Didn’t you trip over in the dunes? Had to ice your ankle, didn’t you?” Cas chuckled.

“Yeah, and it meant Bobby had to keep an eye on you on your public events for a week, yet you still _insisted_ on carting me around with you,” He shook his head fondly.

“Well, yeah. You’re my best friend, Cas. I needed you there so I could bitch about―”

“Everything?” Cas supplied. Dean flipped him off before chuckling. His hand landed on top of Cas’, and gave a thankful squeeze. “Better now?”

“Yeah, a lot better. Thank you, Cas,” He didn’t realise he was rubbing his thumb slowly along the top of Cas’ hand, but Cas glanced down with a slight frown on his face. Oh. Right. Dean quickly pulled his hand back and swung his arms up in a big show of a stretch. “So, Monday morning. Isn’t this the beginning of my courtship phase?” He rolled his eyes, and Cas put the distance back up between them. Dean ignored how hollow every step apart made him.

“Yes, Your Highness,” Cas his friend became Castiel his bodyguard right before Dean’s eyes, and he instantly missed his best friend. “I believe Her Majesty wishes to go over your plans for this week, and His Royal Highness wants to discuss the tabloid issues regarding their own lists,” Dean caught the slight sparkle in Cas’ eye, and it made him grin.

“Well, then, far be it from me to keep my loving family waiting. Shall we?” He shook his head with a smile at Cas’ eyebrow twitch. His best friend was always there, just below the surface. Just for Dean.

**********

The main dining room was usually only ever reserved for important dinners, such as when Castle Winchester was hosting a Lord, Lady, or a member of the parliament. Every other occasion, the members of the Royal family usually had their breakfast, lunch and dinners in the privacy of their own suits, or the Smoking Room.

Dean called it the Smoking Room because that’s essentially what it was for centuries until it was revealed cigars and tobacco were bad for your health. It then became a smaller dining room for just the Family to gather. The placement was extremely convenient for their chef, Garth, and his staff since it was so close to the kitchen.

The prince waltzed into the Smoking Room armed with a polite smile since he had no idea what to expect. He was never sure of his mother’s moods. Dean was greeted with his mother peering at him over a newspaper, with a pile of tabloids sitting next to Dean’s plate of eggs and bacon on toast. Sam was sitting across from Dean’s seat, cutting into his egg white omelette while directing a smirk towards his brother. Dean felt like he was under a microscope. He hadn’t even sat down.

“Good morning, Dean,” His mother was the first to speak, as Dean cut into his eggs to watch the yolk explode all over his toast. “I trust you slept well,”

“Well, actually―”

“Good, I’m glad. Now, with your itinerary this week,” Mary ruffled the newspaper into a folded position. Dean held back a sigh. His mother barely knew about Dean’s nightmares. He tried to mention them once, around the time of the King’s death, but to no avail. Dean didn’t know if she was actively avoiding the topic, even now after eight years, or if she couldn’t afford to hear about her son’s troubles. “You’re to attend Lord Zachariah Adler’s garden party Wednesday afternoon, and I figured it would be appropriate to align your dates with the party. So, who was your date this week?”

“Benny Lafitte,” Dean avoided his mother’s gaze, still stung slightly from her avoidance of his well-being. He took a sip of his coffee, smacking his lips before continuing. “Charlie and I mapped it all out. Four dates per...well, date, a week. So, today, Benny and I were going to go to the pier near his estate. I think he wanted to show me his yacht,” He glanced out the window, smiling at the glorious day outside. “Then the garden party since we hadn’t properly organised anything for Wednesday. The third date was to be a dinner date here on Thursday, and the fourth was to be a full day on Saturday, and I believe Charlie had organised for a horse-back ride into the woods. Provided the weather holds up, of course,” Dean smiled as he made eye contact with his mother.

“That sounds wonderful, dear,” Mary gave him a real smile for once. “Please don’t forget to wear sunscreen today,”

“Why are you so interested, though, Mom? Thought you didn’t want any part in the courtship process,”

“Well, yes, that _was_ the case, until the masquerade ball,” She spoke sharply, the smile dropping from her face. “You were not exactly behaving as a prince should, so I thought it prudent to insert myself into the decision-making,”

“If you’re referring to my dance with Benny, he was chastised for his behaviour,”

“Well, there’s that. But also, the way you addressed the party wasn’t very fitting, either.” She brought her cup of tea to her lips, surveying him as she sipped. Dean let out a sigh.

“Terribly sorry, Mother. I promise it won’t happen again,” He scooped the last of his food into his mouth as the lie fell from his lips. Nobody in the room honestly believed him, but also, nobody jumped to correct him either. Mary just rolled her eyes, and Sam snorted softly. "Do we know how much we raised at the masquerade, by the way?”

“Arthur and the boys are still going over the numbers, but it looks to be somewhere between twenty-one to twenty-five hundred thousand for all three of the charities,” Mary placed her cup on her saucer, smiling civilly as the footman refilled her teacup. “Now, I believe Sam wanted to discuss the tabloids with you. Something about a list you asked for?” She raised an eyebrow, a small smile creeping onto her lips. Sam clattered his cutlery onto his plate, before coming around to Dean’s side, throwing his hand onto the magazines piled next to Dean.

“You’re gonna love this,” Sam had his excited puppy-dog smile on his face, and Dean was helpless to indulge him. He gestured for his brother to go on, and Sam pulled the top magazine from the pile, flipping to a dog-eared section, before shoving the tabloid in Dean’s face. It was the _Okay GO!_ magazine, and Dean recognised the reporter’s name. Becky Rosen. Oh, boy.

“Becky isn’t exactly a reputable journalist, Sammy,” He crossed his arms, but cleared his throat as he read the piece out loud. “‘ _His Royal Highness, Prince Dean Winchester of Cansatonia, has officially begun his quest for his leading Lady or Lord in this romantic story of ‘The Journey to the future King’s Heart’, as we at Okay GO! like to refer to it. But when he announced the search to the public, he also issued a challenge for us: find him a list of possible partners. We submitted our legit suggestions to his press team, but he has also issued a more relaxed challenge: regardless of station, who would we_ want _to see the future King of the people married to?_ _We passed this question onto our valued readers and were met with the same answer throughout. In our survey of possible non-contenders, an astounding 78% of our readers voted for Castiel Novak, the crown prince’s dashing and daring bodyguard of five years...’_ Wow,” Dean let out a whistle, skimming over the rest of the article. “This is basically a campaign piece for Cas to quit his job and become a lord,” He glanced over at his bodyguard in question, who remained as stoic as ever. But Dean could tell, from the slight tinge of pink in Castiel’s cheeks, he was mildly affected by the words Becky had written. The man was standing way too rigidly, even by Castiel’s standards.

“She’s not the only one who’s done that. At least half of these,” Sam tapped his fingers on the covers of the tabloids. “Offer up cases and scenarios where you and Cas...”

“Alright, alright,” Dean smirked. “We get it, people are suckers for that bodyguard-falling-for-his-charge trope,”

“It’s also that royal-falling-for-his-protector trope, Dean,” Sam mumbled, and Dean thwacked him across the head lightly.

“Any other fun suggestions? _Please_ tell me at least some of them suggested Chris Evans or Emilie Clarke,”

“Dude, those two are _way_ too old for you,” Sam screwed up his nose.

“Ah, age is just a number, baby.” He flicked Sam’s shoulder, and Sam glared before launching into a tirade of the fun celebrities and locals people had suggested. He didn’t mention Cas again, and for that, Dean was thankful. Not just for himself. He noticed Cas relaxed into his standard-rigid stance and diverted his gaze back to the tabloids. Dear God, maybe this denial was going to kill Dean.


	6. Number one with a bullet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, turns out writing out a plan makes me SUPER KEEN for the story. Who knew?
> 
> Enjoy!

At ten o’clock on the dot, Castiel pulled the car up in the Lafitte estate. The rolling fields had given way to a handsome valley, with rows of sunflowers guarding the modest three-story brick house beyond the iron-wrought gates. Dean could see the ocean just beyond the house and felt a fluttering excitement in his chest as Charlie gestured for him to exit the car. He climbed out, breathing in the salty sea air slowly. Dean, Charlie and Castiel were greeted with the welcome party of the entire estate, twelve people in formal linen dress suits. Benny stood at the centre of the row, dressed in a loose white poet shirt and tan slacks, with a wide grin on his face at the sight of Dean. He pulled into a respectable bow, and the rest of his staff followed suit.

“Welcome, Your Highness, to Lafitte Manor,” Benny gestured to the estate behind him. Dean gave him a generous bow back, reaching out for the man. Benny took Dean’s hand and pressed his lips to the back of Dean’s hand. “I hope you’re prepared for a day down on the docks, _mon cher_ ,” Dean gestured to his attire. He deliberately picked out a loose-fitting ivory dress shirt, with royal blue slacks and a matching suit jacket.

“Am I too over-dressed, my Lord?” He smirked, watching Benny jump at the invitation to slowly drag his gaze over Dean. The prince is well aware he’s easy on the eyes, and given the suggestive letter and behaviour of Benny in particular, Dean couldn’t help lapping up the attention. As it was, Benny gave a hum of appreciation as he brought his blue-green eyes back to Dean’s waiting smirk.

“Not at all. Good enough to eat,” Benny’s upper lip quivered in a slight snarl as he smiled, and Dean beamed. Oh yeah, his ego will be well-fed this week. Charlie made a quiet coughing noise from behind Dean, and Benny turned a more polite smile towards Dean’s entourage. “Ah, Miss Bradbury, Mr Novak, welcome welcome. My apologies,” He held out his hand towards Charlie, who returned his handshake gently with a smile. Instead of offering a hand to Cas, he gave a respectful nod, which Cas returned, tight-lipped. Charlie glanced knowingly between Dean and Benny but said nothing. “So, Your Highness, how about we begin the tour of the docks? We’ll come through the manor to do so,” He offered his hand to Dean and smiled as the prince took his warm hand.

“My Lord, isn’t the docks behind the manor?” Dean quirked up an eyebrow as they made their way through the front doors. Benny waggled his eyebrows playfully but said nothing.

Dean’s dress shoes clicked loudly on the marble flooring, and the prince marvelled quietly at the modern art spread sparsely on the white walls. Everything about the rooms as they walked through the manor screamed ‘Beach!’, from the light blue and white colour scheme to the nautical-themed accessories hanging through the rooms. A large, rusted iron anchor leaning against wood slats that made up a bookcase in the main lounge room, old rowing oars hanging above the patio doors, crab traps repurposed into outdoor lights hanging from the ceiling of the outdoor patio where...oh, the manor was built on the river flowing to the ocean. The patio had been dressed to the nines, with a banquet of assorted finger foods and chilled wines set out on a table in the shade. Dean grinned as they stepped outside, glancing back at Charlie and Cas. Charlie looked just as thrilled as Dean felt, but Cas looked alarmed.

“Forgive me, my Lord, but what is the state of your security measures for this part of the manor?" Cas zeroed in on the closeness of the _very_ _public_ docks not two steps from the glass separating the manor. Benny chuckled, addressing Cas over his shoulder.

“My men and women know how to handle themselves, sir. Trust me, the very last thing I would ever want to do is put our Dean here at risk,” Benny gave Dean’s hand a gentle squeeze, and Dean chuckled.

“Castiel’s still coming with us, so really, no harm, no foul,” He took in another deep breath of the sea air.

“Aw, _mon cher_ , don’t you trust me?” Benny made his way to the wines and gestured to the bottle. Dean peered at the label. It was a strawberry wine, something Dean hadn’t ever tried before but was curious. He nodded politely, and Benny poured a generous glass for him.

“I do, Benny, but Cas is the cautious one out of the two of us,” Dean smirked at Cas, who stared hard at the prince. “But there again, I can afford to be reckless,” He took a sip of the wine and was pleasantly surprised by how delicate the drink was on his tongue.

“Not too reckless, please, sir,” Cas pleaded, tilting his head. His lips showed only the smallest hint of a smile. Dean was fairly certain only he could tell Cas was teasing. “Her Majesty would have me shot if you came back home in worse condition than you left,”

“Not shot, surely. Publicly humiliated, perhaps, or maybe lashings,” He huffed a laugh at the eye-roll he was rewarded from Cas and the scoff from Charlie. Benny glanced nervously between the three of them, and Dean gave him a reassuring squeeze of his hand. “I’m kidding, of course. Such practices haven’t been deemed lawful for decades at least. Well, the humiliation one is still technically legal, just...done differently,” The prince grinned at Benny’s relaxing expression before taking a deep drink of his wine.

“Had me going for a moment, there, darlin’,” He drawled, and Dean felt a low tug deep within his belly at the light growl in Benny’s voice. Apparently, a deep, gravelly voice struck a chord with him. Who knew? Dean blushed as he realised, _he_ did, because of the very bodyguard, he’s trying so hard to keep in the friend-zone. Except _this_ deep voice came from someone he was allowed to be attracted to. He smiled warmly at Benny, who raised an eyebrow. “Dean?”

“Your, ah...” Dean dropped his gaze to his shoes, biting his lower lip. He mentally yelled at himself for being so stupidly transparent about his desires, but screw it, he’s here to be courted, for crying out loud. Might as well be upfront about what he likes. “Your voice is very pleasing, my Lord,” His words came out as a nervous flutter, and he looked up through his lashes at Benny.

Boom. Got him hook, line and sinker. The fingers already wrapped around Dean’s hand twitched, and Benny’s other hand tentatively caressed Dean’s shoulder.

“Good to know, Dean,” His words came out in an even lower pitch, and Dean felt his blush deepen. Benny let out a rich laugh, and Dean joined in quietly, ignoring the eyes burning into his back. Benny gestured to the glass gate, still smiling. “Shall we go down to the docks, Your Highness?” Dean finished off the rest of his wine before nodding.

“Lead the way, my Lord.”

**********

Dean had been on the water a few times in his life, but not nearly enough to be one-hundred percent accustomed to the ever-constant swaying of the yacht Benny called his pride and joy, _Leviathan_. As much as Dean adored the sea air, he could feel his stomach lurching with each sway of the water.

“All good there, Your Highness?” Benny leaned up against the starboard bow, wind rustling his shirt, and a knowing smile on his lips. “Lost your sea legs?”

“The sea air is doing wonders for me, but I’m curious, am I as green as I feel?” He chuckled mirthlessly and bit his lip as he felt his stomach quiver.

“Let’s head into the cabin, get you some water and food,” The man wrapped his arm around Dean’s shoulder. “I’ve got you, Chief,” Dean leaned into Benny’s side as they slowly stepped past Cas’ watchful gaze and through the door of the cabin. He motioned for Dean to sit on the leather bench chair, so he did. Dean watched as Benny fluttered over to the kitchen bar of the large yacht, pulling a bottle of water out of the chiller fridge. He tucked the bottle under his arm before pulling out a platter of strawberries, mangoes, cherries and pears, with a container of chocolate sauce sitting in the middle of it all. “Some of the season’s best offerings,” He winked as he placed the platter down on the table in front of Dean, before handing Dean the chilled bottle. “But first, drink some water. Otherwise, I believe your boy outside might just kick me off my boat,”

“He’d never do that,” Dean cracked the lid open and sipped slowly. “I don’t think,”

“That’s a comfort, _cher_ ,” Benny reached out and dipped a strawberry into the sauce, raising an eyebrow. “Would it be beneath you for me to feed you a chocolate strawberry?” A warm feeling flooded Dean's chest, and he broke into a wide grin.

“Not at all, my Lord,” He watched as Benny slowly brought the strawberry to his lips, the chocolate sauce fast running down Benny’s cautious fingers and wanting to drip onto Dean. He didn’t think, didn’t consider how it would look, he just _went_ for it―Dean opened his mouth underneath the dripping fruit, poising his tongue to catch the drip as it fell, eyes firmly on the man in front of him. Benny flushed as Dean brought his lips around the strawberry, and the prince gave him a salacious wink before biting into the strawberry. Benny widened his eyes as Dean sucked the residual chocolate and the juices from the fruit, and Dean smirked as he swallowed. The fruit _was_ delicious and sweet. “Mmm, very nice,” He licked his lips.

“That’s putting it lightly.” Benny murmured, still awestruck. Dean laughed before pulling another sip of water from his bottle. He glanced towards the door and spotted Cas staring straight at Dean through the window, giving him a disbelieving shake of the head.

The prince paid him no mind, however, and continued to indulge on the fruits and Benny’s affections. He was cautious to pair back the salacious gestures and talk for the rest of the day. There was something about Cas’ response that slightly wounded his pride. As they finally had to bid their goodbyes, Benny walked Dean, Charlie and Cas to the door.

“I had a wonderful time, Your Highness,” Benny gave Dean a deep bow, pressing a soft kiss to his hand. Dean smiled at Benny as their eyes met, and he rested his hands gently on the man’s shoulders. Dean could feel his heart race, and he couldn’t quell the yelling in his head to stop pinning all his hopes into the response of their first kiss. First kisses are rarely ever magical. He may be a prince, but fairy-tales are not real.

The prince slowly caressed the lord’s cheek and leaned in to give him a chaste kiss. Benny’s lips were rough and warm, and...that was it. There was no spark, no light. Lust was an undertone, judging by the ever-so-slight slip of his tongue against Dean’s bottom lip, but that was it.

Dean ignored the childish yelling in the back of his mind. Not everything is going to fall into place straight away. It was like Mary said, Dean thought ruefully as they drove away from the Lafitte estate. Marriage takes work. He just doesn’t want to believe the work involves falling in love.


	7. We crave a different kind of buzz

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. It's all over. The show is over and I don't think I'm going to be okay about it for a while. Probably ever. I cannot believe they did Dean that dirty. He deserved better than that. And Cas...my comfort character deserved so much better than the Bury Your Gays trope.  
> To make up for my anger and sadness at Season Fifteen as a whole, I'm going to be burying myself in fanfic. Trust me, it helps.

“Dean, I want you to revisit your etiquette classes before the garden party tonight,” Mary’s voice crackled through the phone, and Dean rolled his eyes. “Don’t roll your eyes at me,”

“How’d you-“

“ _Dean_ ,” She reasoned. Dean huffed a laugh.

“Oh, so _now_ you know me?” He frowned at his face in the mirror out in his loungeroom. He had bags under his eyes again. Last night he barely slept, and judging from Cas’ worrying glance, his bodyguard was aware of the insomnia. There were no nightmares this time, though, which Dean was taking as a blessing in disguise.

“Dean,” Mary tried again. “You’re my _son_ , of course, I know you.” Dean felt his anger bubble up in his chest, and he had to bite down his protests about her avoidance of his troubles. It would do no good, there was nothing she could do, especially now, when she’s on her way to the Royal Botanical Show.

“Fine. How’d you find out about my behaviour?” He shot a mock glare at Cas. “Did Castiel report back to you?” Cas let out an exasperated sigh and shook his head.

“Not exactly. He filled out his usual log report, and the report made its way to Ketch, which in turn made its way to me,” Mary tutted. “You know I have eyes everywhere,”

“Thanks for the threat, Mom. Really comforting to know you’re monitoring my crusade here,”

“Will you please take the class? It’s a dance one, too. Now I know you’re good at dancing, but honey, you were way too close to a handful of your partners that night, not just Benny,” Mary sighed.

“Well, who’s gonna be my dance partner? Not Charlie, please. She nearly broke my toe the last time I danced with her, and you honestly cannot imagine Balthazar plucking up the courage to dance with me,” Dean smirked. His etiquette teacher was incredibly snarky and wildly funny, but he was also intimidated by the crown. He always insisted Dean dance with someone he felt comfortable with, so Charlie was usually the first to offer her hand.

“You’ll figure something out, Dean. You always do. Why not Castiel?” Mary’s voice was...strange when she made the suggestion. Dean’s eyes flew to Cas, and he could tell his bodyguard heard every word. “You can confidently say he wouldn’t do anything to hurt you, and you’re very comfortable with Cas,”

“Sure, because people are normally so _uncomfortable_ with their best friends,” Dean rolled his eyes, and Cas breathed out a chuckle. “Sure, if Novak’s amenable,” He watched his bodyguard give him a curious head-tilt, and Dean gave him a wink.

“You know he would be,” He could hear his mother’s eyeroll through the phone. “Alright, I best be off. Give my love to Castiel,”

“Honestly, Mother, sometimes I think you care more about my bodyguard than me,” Dean joked, ignoring the mild stab in his confidence. Mary let out a tinkling laugh.

“I love you both very much, and of course I care about Castiel. He’s practically family, Dean,” Dean averted his gaze from Cas’ smiling eyes. Oh, how Dean wishes. That would make his whole situation so much easier to deal with. “Goodbye, sweetie.”

“Bye, Mom.” Dean hung up and pressed his face into his phone as he lounged out on his chaise. Cas hadn’t said anything, but he could still feel the man’s eyes on him. Dean tutted before sighing. “You know, sometimes I wish I could just...run away from all this.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling a headache starting up nice and early. They usually don’t come around until after midday, but oh no, today was already shaping up to be a doozy.

“I know, Dean.” Dean opened his eyes to find Cas giving him a heart-wrenching smile, and his spirits lifted, for a moment. That was all Dean ever got with Cas. Just a moment.

**********

The garden party was in full swing when Dean arrived at the front gates of Lord Adler’s estate, fashionably late as planned. The man meant well, of course, but Dean always felt like he was being scrutinized by him with every decision he made. Even now, as Dean exited his vehicle with Cas falling into step behind him, Adler gave Dean a look that made his insides squirm.

“Your Royal Highness, welcome back to my humble abode,” He pulled into a low bow, and Dean gave him a courteous nod. “Your, ahem, date has already arrived, Your Highness. I think you’ll find him traipsing through the hedge maze,” Dean caught the slight judgement in the man’s tone. A flare of anger surged through him, but he chose not to rise to the bait.

“Thank you, my lord. I must say, you’ve outdone yourself this year,” He glanced around at the floating paper lanterns, and the glistening fairy lights. His servers were dressed in full coat-tail suits, making Dean wince. Those suits were uncomfortable on any given occassion, but you add a ninety-five-degree night to the equation? Yeah, Dean wanted to douse them all in buckets of ice. He turned back to Lord Adler, who was giving him a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

“Thank you, sir, that’s very kind of you to say. Now, tell me,” He flashed his teeth, and Dean felt a prickle on the back of his neck. “What on God’s green earth possessed you to decide you’re attracted to both men _and_ women?” Lord Adler clapped his greasy hand on Dean’s shoulder.

“What do you mean?” He still kept a smile on his face, but he straightened his back and raised his head to look down at Zachariah. The lord’s hand fell from Dean’s shoulder, and he fluttered it around in a dismissive move.

“Well, I mean, all due respect, but it’s a bit selfish, don’t you think? You can’t just... _pick_ one? Perhaps the one that would help produce an heir,” Dean cocked an eyebrow as he felt his face heat up. “I understand most people have moments of curiosity now and then, especially at your age, but you’re not _most people_ , now, are you?”

“You speak as if you know me,” Dean’s tone came out clipped, which impressed him since he wanted to scream bloody murder at him. “I suggest you hold your tongue, lest you sully your good name, sir.” He gave him a curt nod, which Lord Adler responded to with a shaken expression. Dean turned on his heel and made a speedy break for the hedge maze, Castiel as always trailing behind him.

“Your Highness?” Cas spoke lowly, barely discernible in the raucous noise of party-goers. Dean felt a gentle hand on his back, and Dean melted slightly into the touch. The lanterns flickered up above them as the prince made his way through the courtyard. The cloying scent of roses swam all around them. Glasses of champagne and whiskey were being carted around on silver platters by Lord Adler’s poor servers. Dean grabbed a glass of whiskey and threw back half the glass before acknowledging Cas.

“I’m fine, buddy,” He sighed out. The burn of the alcohol down his throat only soothed his anger slightly. “Just didn’t think it was wise to be around that slimeball any longer than I was. Who knows what I would’ve done otherwise...”

“You handled yourself very well. Better than I, if the tables were turned,” Dean turned to see Cas’ hardened features, which made him chuckle.

“I don’t doubt you, Cas,” Dean heard his name called out from the hedge-maze, and glanced over to see Benny giving him a wave. “And now I’m about to do something incredibly reckless. Don’t hold me back.” With that, Dean finished the rest of his glass and handed it off to Cas. Before Castiel could respond to Dean’s words, the prince marched over to Benny.

“Your Highness, you look as ravishing as ever,” Benny pressed a chaste kiss to Dean’s cheek. Dean brought his hand to Benny’s face and caressed his thumb over the man’s bottom lip.

“As do you, my Lord,” His voice came out low and husky. “Dance with me?” Benny’s eyebrows raised in surprise, but he grinned all the same.

“Of course, _cher_. Out here, or did you want to move closer to the music?”

“Closer to the music. I don’t want to hide you away,” Dean tugged Benny’s hand with him as he made his way back to the massive crowd under the pergola of the estate. Dean caught Castiel’s eye, and he didn’t miss the imploring squint his bodyguard gave him. Dean shot him a wink.

The crowd parted slowly for the prince, and Dean pulled Benny in nice and close just as the next song started to play. It was a simple waltz, which was good. Dean had practice with this earlier today, with Cas. He slipped his hand gently into Benny’s large hands and remembered how lithe Cas’ fingers felt in comparison. Benny swooped his arm around Dean’s waist with an air of hesitance. There was a slight unfamiliarity there, not like Cas. His bodyguard had rested his hand on the small of Dean’s back like it belonged there, and Dean supposes in a way, it was true. So many occasions had required him to keep Dean within an arm’s length or closer, and he always took it literally. Dean smiled as Benny led their steps. He was more confident than Cas was, but what Castiel lacked in experience, he had made up for in the understanding of Dean’s body. As it turns out, watching someone for years leads you to know how they move in any given circumstance. Shocking.

Dean’s heart had thudded painfully in his chest with Cas’ hands on him, but here, with everybody’s eyes on him as he danced with his date, he only felt determination. He had to do this. Fuck Lord Adler for his biphobia. Fuck propriety. Fuck the whole system for making him jump through these hoops. Fuck Castiel for being the only damn one he wanted out of all his choices.

“ _Cher_? Are you alright?” Benny pulled his face close to Dean’s ear, pulling him out of his reverie.

“Super, Benny,”

“Where’d you go? You looked lost in thought,” He ghosted a sigh onto Dean’s neck, and the prince shivered.

“Just had to restrain myself from screaming at Lord Adler for his comments about ‘picking a side’ and ‘going for the ones that produce an heir’,”

“No shit?” Benny pulled back to blink confusedly at Dean before understanding dawned. “That’s why you wanted to dance in full view of everybody,”

“I’m sorry, I hope you don’t feel...”

“Your Highness, whatever you intend to apologise for, save it. I understand your motives completely. But, _cher_ , I had an idea to really stir the pot, if you’re up for it,” There was a dangerous gleam in the lord’s eyes.

“Go for it, Benny.” They shared a smile before Benny pulled him in for a deep kiss. Dean’s surprised moan was swallowed by Benny’s lips, and Dean heard small gasps from around him. They had an audience. Good. Let them see, he thought. The prince pulled his hand to the back of Benny’s neck, locking his fingers into the skin there, ignoring his heart wishing there was wild dark hair there to tug. Benny’s tongue slipped in, and Dean chased it with his own, imagining the sweet taste of wine belonged to the one he wanted. Benny squeezed his hips before they broke apart. Dean kept his eyes closed, holding onto that daydream for a moment longer before he opened them to have the imagination of kissing Castiel shattered at the sight of Benny’s grin.

The guilt of what he did followed him home to his bed that night. His nightmares stayed away in favour of dreams involving Cas in various states of undress, and various positions on his bed. Oh well. At least he got to witness Zachariah’s flaming face from his public display of affection before they left the party.


	8. These sleeping dogs won't lie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for being patient! I initially wanted to try and pump out two chapters for you, but then life sort of got in the way. But I promise you, the next chapter won't be as long a wait as this one was.
> 
> Hope you have happy holidays! Bring on 2021!

“So what I don’t get is,” Dean wiped his fingers delicately on the napkin he draped over his lap. He was having breakfast in his room this morning, and Charlie decided it was the perfect time to go over the itinerary with him as he was scoffing down his French toast. “Why do _I_ have to decide what we’re doing each week? Can’t they pick? After all, they’re meant to be wooing me, aren’t they?”

“Dean Michael Winchester,” Charlie pursed her lips and glared. “Please tell me you did _not_ just say that,” She turned to Cas, who was standing by Dean’s ensuite door. “Tell me I hallucinated him saying that, Cas. He didn’t actually say it should be up to his dates to decide on what to do,”

“I’m afraid you heard correctly, Charlie,” Cas smirked. “Apparently, our crown prince thinks everybody else has to break their back to cater to him,”

“Fuck off, Novak,” Dean muttered. “That’s not what I meant, and you both know it,” He pulled his mug of coffee to his lips as he heard Cas’ soft laughter. “I need new friends.”

“Nah, you don’t. You’d miss us too much,” Charlie didn’t even bat an eyelash at the prince’s angry glower. “Now, come on. Next week, you’ve got Cassie Robinson. And then it’s Fergus Crowley, Lydia Canning, Bela Talbot, Mick Davis, Toni Bevell, Lee Webb, Robin Holt, and Cain Marks,” She glanced over the list on her tablet, and Dean frowned.

“What about Lisa? Thought I asked for her specifically,”

“Ah, she’s...no longer an option,” Charlie flushed. Dean raised an eyebrow. “Lady Lisa is pregnant.” She hung her head at Dean’s admonished stare. “The ‘no longer an option’ words aren’t my own, you know that. Honestly, I say ‘fuck it’ to that sort of ridiculous propriety, but Arthur thinks it would be redundant for the crown prince to be seen out on dates with a woman who fell pregnant out of wedlock,”

“Well, we’re sending her our congratulations and the reassurance that should she need any type of assistance, I would be more than glad to offer a hand,” He picked at the last of his toast.

“Of course, Your Highness.” She tapped a few things on her tablet. “So, what were you thinking as far as viable dates?”

“Uh,”

“Charlie,” Cas stepped in, pouring himself a mug of coffee from the pot on Dean’s coffee table. Dean pulled his legs down to allow Cas to sit on the couch next to him. “Perhaps you’d get better answers from Dean if you asked him after lunch. He’s just woken up, after all,”

“Yeah,” Dean smirked, and Charlie rolled her eyes at him. “Hey, in my defence, I’m exhausted,”

“Not sleeping well?” Charlie, to her credit, softened completely. She rested a hand on Dean’s knee, and the prince let out a heavy sigh. “Isn’t the anniversary coming up soon?”

“It’s still almost two months away, Red,”

“That’s not what I’m talking about, Dean, and you know it.”

Dean’s gaze snapped to Charlie’s blazing look. “ _That_...I...”

“It’s next week, isn’t it? Dean, you know that wasn’t the catalyst of your father’s death. King John, may he rest in peace, died because of an _ongoing heart condition_. It had nothing to do with―”

“Stop.” Dean hung his head. Charlie let out a sad sigh.

“You Winchesters, honestly. Sam’s the same. He blames himself too. Wouldn’t be surprised if the Queen blames herself somehow, too,” She muttered. Silence settled heavily on Dean’s chest, and he mulled in it as he chewed away at the apricots on his plate.

“What do you suggest I do as possible date options? We’ll start with Cassie and work our way through.” Dean straightened his back and put on his bravest face. Charlie and Cas could see straight through it, of course, but they said nothing. Dean just hopes this sadness fades before Benny comes over for dinner.

**********

Mary had organised for the dining hall to be done up for their dinner tonight, so when Dean wandered in a few moments before Benny was scheduled to arrive, he was impressed by the antique silverware being laid on the table. He tilted his head in question at his mother, who was observing the servants placing various decorations around the room.

“You know, he’s only a lord, Mother,” He chuckled. “You don’t need to go to all this effort,”

“Of course I do,” She smiled at Dean before pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek. “There is a chance this man might be my new son-in-law. I want to make a good impression,”

“He’s met you before, ma,”

“Yes, but as his _queen_. This time, it’ll be as his date’s mother. Slightly different emotion,”

“Oh yeah, definitely more terrifying as my mother,” Dean chuckled.

“Exactly.” She touched Dean’s nose, a small smile gracing her face. “Are you nervous?”

“Probably nowhere near as nervous as Benny probably is,” Dean hesitated before continuing. “Mom, ah, I just want to say, um...” Mary turned her full attention onto her eldest son, still holding that gentle smile. “Thank you,” The word came out of his mouth with a sigh of relief. “Thank you for accepting me for who I am, and for not pushing me to pretend to be someone I’m not.” A flush crept up Dean’s neck as he noticed Mary’s eyes sparkle.

“Of course, sweetheart,” She caressed his cheek. “You’re my boy, first and foremost, crown prince second. I love you for who you are, nothing more, nothing less. I’m proud of you.”

“Thank you,” Dean pressed his cheek into her warm hand. He felt her thumb run gently along the apple of his cheek. She caught a stray tear that snuck out from Dean’s eye.

“I had a feeling, deep in the back of my mind, that you weren’t being true to yourself with me. But I knew you just needed time, and I’m glad you felt comfortable and safe to tell me.” She pressed a kiss to his forehead. They broke apart just as Arthur entered the dining room, silently signalling Mary. “Our guest of honour has arrived, it seems. Are you ready?” Dean nodded.

The whole family stood waiting in the entrance hall, Dean at the centre with Sam and Mary flanking him. A short distance from the Royals stood the rest of the family― Castiel, Gabriel, Bobby directly behind their charges against the wall, Arthur and Charlie standing to the side near the door leading to the dining room. As the door swung open, Dean felt his shoulders stiffen. He had no idea why he was so nervous to begin with. It was _Benny_ , for crying out loud.

As he walked in, Benny maintained proper etiquette, keeping his head low until Mary gave him a returning courteous nod. He gave Dean and Sam each a bow, until Dean beamed at him, offering his hand. Benny pressed a gentle kiss onto the top of Dean’s hand with a soft smile.

“Welcome, Lord Lafitte,” Mary smiled warmly, gesturing to the dining room doors. “Shall we make our way to the dining room?”

“Thank you, Your Majesty, for graciously inviting me into your home,” Benny reflected her smile, and Dean was struck by how _blue_ the man’s eyes were, offset by his grey suit and navy tie. Benny offered his arm out for Dean, who happily took it and the family walked into the dining room, with Bobby, Gabriel and Cas stationing themselves near the doors. Arthur and Charlie disappeared, probably to Mary’s office to keep out of the way. Benny gave the bodyguards a curious glance as the family took their seats at the table. “Do your guards always eat separately, or has there been an occasion to invite them to the table?” Benny seemed genuinely interested, which made Dean happy. He wanted to know more about Dean’s home life, and that mattered to him.

“It depends. Sometimes, when it’s a quiet night, we’ll ask for enough food for our guards to eat here, and half the time, Cas and Gabe have breakfast and lunch with us anyway, since we usually take those meals in our rooms,” Dean shrugged as the food came out. The entree was a simple foie gras, which always made Dean’s stomach turn. As the plate was set down, Dean sent an annoyed glance towards Sam, who held the same disgusted grimace as Dean. Both the princes politely picked at the entree, and Dean sipped from his wine glass, keeping a watchful eye on his date, who was chewing delicately. Benny glanced towards Cas, and there was an interesting look in the man’s eye.

“I’m curious, Your Highness. You seem so casual with your guards at home. When you were around my place, and even when we were at Zach’s godawful party, there was a...formality between you and _Cas_ ,” The way the nickname fell from Benny’s lips set a thrumming tick of annoyance through Dean. “That formality doesn’t seem to be there anymore, which is interesting. Not many people have the type of friendship you have with yours. Is he to be your bodyguard even when you become king?”

“That is the plan,” Dean glanced towards Cas, who kept a stoic look on his face. Anybody would think the words barely even registered with the man, but Dean noticed the slight twitch in his jaw. Castiel was _pissed_ _off_ at being addressed by his nickname by anybody who wasn’t family. “But let’s change the subject, shall we? Surely you didn’t come all this way to discuss my relationship with my bodyguard,” Dean kept a gracious smile on his face, and Benny returned it, but the look in his eye didn’t fade.

“I’m merely asking, Dean, if it’s...proper, for a prince’s bodyguard to then become a king’s bodyguard. Shouldn’t there be more rigorous training involved? More protocols to cover?” Dean glanced heavenward, gritting his teeth. If he says _one more thing_... “Wouldn’t it be safer if you were guarded by someone different, someone more capable?”

“No, no it would not be safer,” Dean barely held back from snapping at Benny. _Barely._ “Castiel knows me better than anybody else in this room, and _that’s_ saying something. Cas has diplomatic immunity in one hundred and ninety countries, including the Vatican, and is more than _capable_ of doing his job. Moreover, Castiel is my best friend and is considered a member of this family. If you insult him, you insult me and by turn, the rest of the Royal family. So, my Lord, I beg you, choose your words wisely.” Dean pulled himself out of his chair, turning to his mother to give a small bow. “Mother, may I be excused a moment?" Mary raised one eyebrow before nodding her consent. Dean turned on his heel, sending a glance towards Cas, before marching himself out of the dining room.

He kept walking, his shoes clacking loudly in the otherwise silent castle. The anger that flooded his senses before was slowly disappearing with each step and deep breath. Dean came to a stop in front of his father’s portrait hanging just outside Mary’s study.

“Dean?” Castiel’s voice was gentle, hesitant. Dean sighed.

“Yeah, Cas?”

“Thank you.” That was it. Dean was half-expecting to be chastised about not needing to be defended, especially not by his charge. At least, he was expecting Cas to shake his head at him. Castiel did, however, reach out and squeeze Dean’s shoulder. That was enough.

“Think I should head back and watch Benny grovel and apologise?” The question was useless because they both knew the answer was _yes_. So, they silently stood a while longer, in the great shadows of Dean’s lineage.


	9. I know that my heart can be so cold

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys, I know I said I'd update quicker...but I lost motivation, and I just worked out it was because I had tried to keep to a rigid schedule of exactly what to have in every chapter, and it was crushing my creativity. So, I decided to take the barest pieces of the framework I have for this story and just play around with it. This does mean I'm not super sure on how many chapters this will be.
> 
> Hopefully still going to be a slow burn though!

The prince frowned as he pressed his head to the glass of his living room window. So much for a beautiful summer’s day to go horseback riding with Benny.

“What are we going to do now?” He muttered as he watched a steady trickle of rain wash downhill over the riding trail he was so keen to take his horse on. It’d only been a few days since he last rode Baby, but he was looking forward to showing his Friesian mare off to Benny. He had his own steed― a palomino stallion named Eli― that was all trussed up and ready to travel over to the Winchester estate. But Charlie had to be the bearer of bad news, giving the prince sighs and sad smiles as she watched Dean huff in mild disappointment.

“Forgive me, sir, but you could always do something _in_ the palace,” She tapped her finger to her chin, considering. “There’s plenty here you could do,”

“Well, sure, but it feels a little...exposed, don’t you think?” Dean wandered back to his lounge, flopping down defeatedly.

“What do you mean?”

“Mom or Sam could just come waltzing in at any given moment,”

“Sam would respect your privacy, Dean, come on,” Charlie shook her head.

“You clearly don’t know about my brother, also known as ‘The Interrupting Moose’,” There was a small chuckle from near the door. “See, Cas gets it,”

“I only get it because I was outside the door when Sam walked in on you and that group of models from the Versace ball,” Cas’ sly response made Dean roll his eyes. “I’m honestly surprised Sam didn’t already figure out you were bi from that moment alone, along with a few others I can think of...”

“Oh?” Charlie raised an eyebrow, glancing between Dean and Cas. Dean gave Cas a stern headshake, and Cas shrugged. “Whatever. So, what do you think of a movie marathon day, just you and Benny? It'd be cozy. I could organize for some beers and wine...”

“Correction, it’d be me, Benny, and _Cas_ ,” Dean sighed, and Cas gave him a strange look.

“I can stay outside if you truly want me to, sir,”

“No, don’t bother. Besides, if you’re there, it’ll keep him from getting too handsy,”

“That didn’t stop him before,” Cas mumbled. Dean stared incredulously at the gall of his friend. Castiel straightened his back and held Dean’s gaze firmly. He could see the defiance in Cas’ blue eyes, but there was something about his nerve that made the prince chuckle.

“Looks like I’ve got Sassy Cas today. Good to know,” He grinned widely at his bodyguard’s elaborate eyeroll, before turning to Charlie. “Alright, let’s go with the movie thing. Also, I hope these early morning meetings with you don’t become a regular thing,” Dean chucked one of his couch pillows at Charlie, who let out a laugh. “I mean, I love you, Red, but sometimes a man’s just gotta take some time alone, you know?”

“Dean,” Charlie gave Dean a fond smile before glancing towards Cas. “You’re never alone.”

“Castiel’s different.” The response was automatic, something he’d said a thousand times before, but that doesn’t mean the pain behind his words stop cutting any deeper. _How is it a prince can be so friendly with his bodyguard?_ Castiel’s different. _How can you be so relaxed with your bodyguard?_ Castiel’s different. _How can both Charlie and Castiel be your friends, yet you look at Charlie like a sister and you don’t look at Castiel the same way?_ Castiel’s different. Dean nearly let the sigh in his chest escape his lips, and he pointedly ignored the quiver in Charlie’s eyebrow.

**********

Dean fully expected Benny to still be in a grovelling defence when they reunited after Thursday’s dinner debacle, but he wasn’t expecting him to be quite so... _determined_. Benny held two separate bouquets in his arms, one filled with orchids and the other filled with sunflowers. He gave Dean a gracious bow, as deep as he could muster without spilling the flowers from his arms.

“Your Highness, please accept these orchids as part of my effort to further mend the problems I caused the other night. I’m sorry I spoke out of turn, and I am aware you are not the only one I need to apologise to,” Benny’s expression was solemn and Dean couldn’t help feeling his insides melt slightly as he turned to the side to address Castiel, sunflowers nursed delicately in the crook of his elbow. “Sir, please understand I never intended to disrespect you or your position with His Highness. I hope these flowers will begin to display the depth of my shame. I’m sorry, you deserve to be treated with the highest of praise for everything you’ve done for the prince, and I will do so from this moment forth,” Cas blinked owlishly at the flowers, before glancing towards Dean, who was heavily breathing in the scent of his bouquet. Dean smiled and gave Cas a small nod, so the bodyguard graciously accepted his sunflowers.

“If I may ask, my Lord, how did you know orchids were Dean’s favourites, and sunflowers were mine?” Castiel’s tone was the warm-honey-on-gravel noise Dean recognized as pleased and flattered. There was a slight twinge in his gut at the recognition. Before this moment, that was a tone only _Dean_ could elicit from Cas’ lips. Benny smirked.

“I asked around, and it turns out Dean’s publicist knows a lot more about the two of you than the public does. I only asked about the flowers, and about the movies,” He chuckled. “Your favourite movies are definitely on the agenda for today, if I have any say in it,” Dean glared playfully.

“What did Charlie say is my favourite? Because what I tell her to say to the press―”

“The press think your favourite movie is _Star Wars V: The Empire Strikes Back_ , and while it is definitely one of your favourites, the one movie you love to watch for comfort with Cas and sometimes Charlie is actually _The Notebook_. I’ll tell you, I’m down for watching either of them,” Benny gave Dean a dazzling smile before turning back to Cas. “And Charlie tells me your favourite movie is _When Harry Met Sally_ , but you’re also a big fan of _Constantine_ , is that correct?” Cas stayed silent, blinking at Benny in shock. Dean cleared his throat.

“Spot on for both of us. Cas, remind me to have a word with Charlie about divulging our dirty movie-watching secrets later,”

“In Charlie’s defence, Your Highness,” Benny reached over and pressed a gentle hand to Dean’s shoulder. “She only wanted to help me attempt to patch up my mistake. She told me this information with the strictest disclaimer that if I break your heart, or if I step out of line in any way, she’s giving Castiel the go-ahead to...ah, ‘pummel the complete and total crap’ out of me,” He used his free hand to mimic quotations, and Dean grinned.

“That’s my girl.” He murmured, and laughed loudly at Benny’s wide-eyed gaze. “So far, so good, Lafitte. Curious, what are your favourite films? Seems only fair we know about yours,” Benny chuckled.

“I’m a big fan of _Lost Boys_ , and I’d be remiss if I didn’t also mention _Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of The Black Pearl_ ,”

“Big fan of vampires and pirates?” Dean smirked, before clicking his fingers. “ _Vampirates!_ ” Benny and Cas both stared incredulously at him. “What, it’s like the second thing you think of when you put ‘vampires’ and ‘pirates’ together in a sentence,”

“No,” Benny spoke hesitantly, even if his lips curled up in a half-smile. “Not really, Your Highness.”

“Screw you two, I’m hilarious,” He stomped off towards the theatre room, ignoring the double bouts of rough laughter that followed behind him. “Just for that, we’re watching my movies first.” He opened the doors to reveal the theatre room, but Charlie had made a few deliberate decor changes since her presentation of potential Lords and Ladies.

Instead of the multitude of different couches in varying points of the room, there was only one couch, in the perfect position from the projector screen. Although, Dean thought, to call this a ‘couch’ would be modest. It rather looked like a massive Californian-King-sized bed, complete with a fluffy and comfortable headrest. Blankets of down feathers, along with massive pillows covered in crushed velvet, adorned the bed. Dean spotted a massive purple pillow sitting right in the middle of the headrest and knew he wanted to snuggle into it as soon as possible. Off to the side of the room, there was a table with a wide variety of sweets and drinks. Towards the other corner, Charlie had a collection of candles burning softly, making the room swim in the scent of something woodsy and spiced. Dean liked it, but he couldn’t help the flush that cascaded over his face as he heard his companions approach the door behind him.

“So, apparently this is Charlie’s idea of romance,” Cas murmured, huffing a gentle laugh. “Your Highness, if you wish, I can leave you and Lord Lafitte to enjoy your date on your own,”

“Please, Castiel, you won’t be intruding,” Benny rested a hand on Cas’ shoulder before turning to Dean. “But I suppose, it is up to you, Your Highness,” Dean took a moment to appreciate how _hard_ Benny was trying, all in the name of impressing him, before answering.

“Cas, please stay. That couch-bed-thing looks big enough to afford a bit of wiggle room between the three of us,” He smiled. “But I call the middle!”

“Of course you do, _mon cher_ ,” Benny chuckled as Dean barreled into the softness of the bed. Benny gave Cas a raised eyebrow. “I take it that means you’ll be the one controlling the remotes, then?” Cas smiled before gesturing for Benny to make himself comfortable. Dean burrowed himself under the softness of the blanket, rolling his neck back into the large pillow. A loud resounding _crack_ from Dean’s motion made Castiel wince.

“Dean,” He warned, and the prince gave Cas a sheepish grin.

“I know, I know,” He smirked as he shuffled to let Benny in on his right. “Feels nice, though,”

“If your neck’s hurting, _cher_ , I could give you a massage?” Benny rubbed a hand soothingly on Dean’s shoulder, and the prince gave him a warm smile.

“Maybe later? If I accept a massage now, I don’t think I’ll stay awake through the first movie, let alone all of them,”

“Please,” Cas came over to the bed with three beers in hand, passing one to Benny and one to Dean. “Every time we do a massive movie marathon, you’re always out cold by the third movie, guaranteed,” Benny chuckled into his beer bottle, and Dean scoffed.

“Rude,”

“Just being honest, sir,”

“Fine, Novak. If that’s what you think, then we should watch one of your movies then one of Benny’s, and we’ll see if I’m not awake to hear the triumphant sounds of John Williams’ best score to date,”

“Debatable,” Benny mumbled. Dean rolled his eyes, still glaring at his bodyguard as he climbed in beside him. Cas offered up a lazy smirk with a hand. Dean shook it defiantly.

“Deal, Winchester. Just make sure if you’re going to drool, you do it on your boyfriend’s shoulder this time.”

“Oh no, you better not drool on me, I plan on wearing this shirt to dinner with my family tonight,” Benny tutted. “Drool on your boy _friend_ ’s shoulder, not mine.”

“My God, I’m already regretting this,” Dean mumbled. Cas clicked the remote, and soon enough, the screen was playing the opening scene of _When Harry Met Sally_.

**********

Sure enough, Dean felt his eyes begin to droop as Elizabeth Swann fainted into the ocean. It wasn’t his fault― the couch-bed was _extremely_ comfy, and Benny had looped his arm around Dean’s shoulder. He hadn’t had this much affection given his way in one hit since he was a teenager, and it helped that Cas was there as well. His friend was always a comfort for him, feelings notwithstanding.

The movie seemed to get quieter as Dean nuzzled into a shoulder...he _thinks_ it’s Benny’s, but honestly, he couldn’t tell...perhaps he was dreaming now, because he could faintly hear Captain Jack Sparrow asking why the rum was always gone, and there’s _no way_ the movie was already up to that part, was it?

“You’re good for him,” A rough voice echoed in the quiet of the room. It wasn’t quite low enough to be Cas’, though. Was that Benny? Or was this just his imagination?

“Hopefully, you’ll also be good for him. I’m not...” This voice’s rumble was closer, and Dean wanted to move closer to it. It was soothing, and he felt the softness of a shoulder change to the warmth of a chest. He drew in a breath and recognized Cas’ heady scent. “I’m not enough for him. I can’t―”

“But you want to, don’t you?” The rough voice sounded...strange. There was a gentle melody behind it, like the ending of a movie. But there was no way the movie ended yet. What movie were they even watching anymore? Dean sighed in frustration and figured he’ll just indulge in the dream his subconsciousness seems to be giving him in place of his usual nightmares. “You love him.” Dean frowned. _Who_ loves _who_? These faceless players were getting quite annoying. “This is killing you, isn’t it?”

“Better to be his friend and know I always have a home here, than be exiled for admitting to feelings I know he doesn’t reciprocate.” Dean liked this voice. But he also wanted to hug them, because he knows that pain all too well. He knows how much it hurts to be in love with someone you can never have. Maybe this is his subconscious trying to help him get over Cas? To try and make room for Benny?

“I don’t envy your position, brother. But do you think his feelings are completely platonic? I mean...” There was a long silence, and Dean felt his ears burn as he strained to continue listening to the faceless players. Perhaps they can help him work out what to do with his feelings for Cas. Was it wise to continue to hide behind the guise of a platonic friendship, even if he knows in his heart he would never fall in love the way he’d fallen in love with Castiel?

“They have to be.” The comforting voice replied gently. What does that mean? That’s not the answer he wanted. He _needed_ to know what to do.

The melodious music of a shanty started echoing in the otherwise silent room, and Dean felt himself get swept away into a sea of monsters and oceans of sword-wielding barely dressed pirates. The conversation between his faceless players faded out to join the wreckage of ships past, and Dean dreamt on against the currents.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't resist some Dean/Cas/Benny friendship vibes. I just miss my Purgatory boys so much!
> 
> Also, do you think Dean was really dreaming? Or was he actually half-listening in on a legit conversation? Hmmmmmm.....


	10. No-one suspects at all

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm on a roll, apparently. You will notice some of these chapters are turning out to be longer than others, but I promise it's starting to really come together now!

Dean couldn’t help feeling slightly restless Monday morning. He didn’t get any sleep the night before, and he was certain that wasn’t going to be fair on his next date.

“Who are you seeing this week?” Sam asked politely from his seat at the table. Dean shovelled his eggs into his mouth as Sam asked, so he had to chew fast to respond.

“Cassie Robinson,” He mumbled through a mouthful of food. He felt comfortable not upholding the proper decorum Mary would expect in her presence, since the only other people Sam and Dean were having breakfast with were Gabriel and Cas. Dean felt a light kick in the side of his chair and cast a side-long glance at his bodyguard, who was frowning at him. “What? Mom’s not here, come on,”

“Still, bad habits,” Cas tutted as he smiled. Dean rolled his eyes.

“Sure, sorry _Mom_ ,”

“That’s probably the main reason why she likes you so much, Cas,” Sam smirked. “You keep him in check,”

“Not enough, it seems,” Cas hummed.

“Fuck off,” Dean glared before taking a deep drink of his coffee. A serene silence fell between them, and he cleared his throat. “But yeah, this week is Cassie Robinson. Kinda feel bad about it being this week, especially starting today, ‘cause she’s a really sweet girl. I’m just not feeling up to entertaining at all,”

“Why?” Sam frowned. Dean stared at him until his brother clicked. “Oh, come on, Dean, don’t-“

“No, Sam. _You_ don’t. You cannot honestly look me in the eye you haven’t found something you’ve done to pin the blame on yourself either. I _know_ Mom has, and if you’re anything like me, you’ve found something as well. Well, this one is mine. My burden, my problem, my issue, and I know there’s no logic behind it, there’s no sense in thinking _anything_ about me running away that day eight years ago has a direct link to Dad’s death. Except, if it weren’t for me―”

“ _Dean_ , you were fifteen years old! You weren’t responsible for Dad’s decision to drive off and track you down himself! He should’ve let Bobby handle it!” Sam threw his fork down angrily, and Dean glared as his younger brother stood up. “Honestly, it’s like you said, Dean. It’s been _eight years_ , and it’s like you’re still haunted by his ghost. He’s _dead_ , Dean. He said you’d do this, that you’d blame yourself,”

“He never said that to me,” Dean dropped his gaze down to his now-cold toast, still glaring. “He told me it was stupid to go off on a little joy-riding adventure just because I was ‘looking for a new thrill’. That wasn’t what I was doing, and he knew it,”

“Why did you do it?” Sam threw his arms up in exasperation. “Dean, please, tell me. You never told me why you wanted to run away in the first place!”

“What’d Dad tell you?”

“He _didn’t_ , Dean. He didn’t even mention it. What _happened_?” He started to pace, and Dean felt a hot-blooded anger course through him as he remembered. Of course, Dad never did anything to _Sam_. He _adored_ Sammy. Sam was the smart one, the academic one, the son he could call his own. Dean was never _his_ son, he was always _the Crown’s son_ and to John, there was a big difference. He only ever interacted with Dean to teach him and chastise him. Mary and Sam were blind to it, but Dean’s had one too many of John’s lessons turned into weapons to use against him. That wasn’t even including what John did just before Dean tried to run away...

“Nothing, Sammy. It’s...it was nothing,” He pushed himself out of his chair and marched away. He’d been doing that way too much recently, and he was starting to get sick of it, but he needed to. Otherwise, he would’ve done something stupid, like try to punch his brother. Dean honestly didn’t know how Gabriel and Castiel would’ve reacted to that. Would Gabriel have tried to defend Sam, which would’ve meant Cas would’ve defended Dean? Would they have let Dean go at it until Sam threw a punch back? Would they―

“Dean.” His voice was grounding, as always. The touch of his hand on Dean’s shoulder pulled him to a complete stop, and it was only his fingertips. Cas rounded to face Dean, face drawn sombrely.

“Cas,” Dean sighed. He felt his lip tremble, and he knew Cas saw it. He never missed anything about Dean. The prince spotted a little splatter of coffee staining the corner of Cas’ otherwise perfectly-pressed shirt collar. He focused on that as he tried to breathe slowly through his nose.

“What are you thinking about?” Cas tilted his head ever so slightly. Dean kept his eyes firmly on the coffee stain, but his lips quirked up at the familiar gesture.

“Trying to figure out if you and Gabe would’ve let me throw a punch at Sammy, or if Gabe would’ve tried to deck me right back,”

“You know he wouldn’t have a chance to even start swinging back, Dean,” The smile on Cas’ face was minute, but Dean welcomed it like a warm hug. “I’m faster than he is,”

“Is that why you’re my bodyguard and Gabe is Sam’s? Faster bodyguard for the crown prince?”

“No,” Cas spoke wryly. “They gave me to you because I’m the only one who can put up with you. If Gabriel had taken my post, he would’ve tried to kill you a hundred times over already,” Dean chuckled. “So, what do you want to do? If you want, Charlie would be able to cancel your date for today. It wasn’t a big party invitation, from memory,”

“No, it was just a meet-and-greet at a public garden,” He rolled his eyes. “Honestly, I’m not feeling up to anything public today,”

“Like every other year?” He didn’t raise his eyebrow, didn’t look disappointed, didn’t hold a smirk in his mouth. He just _was_ , like every time Dean needed him― so, always. Dean reached out and gave Cas’ shoulder a gentle squeeze.

“Don’t ever change.” He kept his eyes on his friend, who’s expression softened into something Dean had never seen before. His face seemed almost _delicate_. Dean decided that was his new favourite expression, and this time, nobody else would get Cas to make that expression except him. Future spouse be damned.

**********

True to form, Cas informed Charlie of Dean’s issues, and the prince spent the rest of the day hiding away from both Mary and Sam. Dean knew, however, he wouldn’t be able to avoid his royal duty to find a better option than Lady Carmen Porter. So, he put on a brave face and went along to his other three scheduled dates with Lady Cassandra Robinson.

The rest of the week wasn’t too bad, aside from some outside reports of threats being aimed towards the crown. Dean wasn’t too concerned about that, though, since Castiel hadn’t been all too worried. Cassie was truly a good person to hang around, and her smile was a shot of sunshine in Dean’s otherwise gloomy week. But he knew all about wandering eyes, and Cassie wasn’t exactly subtle, with hers being glued to Charlie.

“My Lady?” Dean queried, gently touching the back of her hand as they enjoyed a brief interlude from the opera show they had attended on Friday night. Cassie’s inquisitive brown eyes lit up, and Dean noticed her cheeks flushed slightly. She had been staring, yet again, at the back of Charlie’s head.

“Forgive me, Your Highness,” She bowed her head graciously.

“Not at all,” Dean brought his lips closer to her ear, figuring subtlety was best. “I happen to know for a fact, Miss Bradbury is single and would possibly even be interested, if that’s an avenue you’d wish to explore. Of course, if discretion is something you desire, I said nothing at all,” Damn Cas to Hell for encouraging such a high level of language from him. His father practically beat propriety into him, but when he died, Dean tried to kick it all together. But no, in comes Castiel, with his proper tone and his habit of―politely, of course― correcting Dean when he stepped out of line. It was maddening most times, but Dean supposes, in this case, it worked out for the better. Given Cassie’s thankful smile, he’d spoken correctly.

“Are you sure you don’t feel...”

“Slighted?” Dean smirked. “Not at all. Besides, I would be the biggest hypocrite in the world if I tried to get in the way of love,” Cassie let out her warm laugh.

“I suppose that’s true. Thank you, Your Highness.”

Instead of feeling rejected, Dean found himself smiling harder than Charlie was when she received a letter the next day from Lady Cassandra, requesting her presence at the Lady's lakeside manor for some afternoon tea. At least something was going well from all of this courting, and Charlie deserved this happiness. Her last relationship had ended dramatically, with Stevie up and ghosting her after a few short months together. Dean had to be the one to hold her consolingly as she sobbed her way through multiple Ben and Jerry’s ice creams and multiple re-watches of _The Lord of The Rings_ trilogy. Extended editions, of course, because they weren’t heathens.

Nobody made any more mention of it, except Cas. He didn’t physically say anything, but the proud smile he flashed Dean as they saw Charlie off in her yellow Beetle told Dean everything. Castiel’s pride helped to chip away further at John Winchester’s lingering rubble about what type of person Dean should be. This was who he wanted to be, someone who was proud to wear his heart on his sleeve and would sacrifice everything for the ones he loves. He would fight this whole world for love if that was what it came down to, and he was beginning to finally be proud of the man he was becoming.


	11. I'm always here if you change your mind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for bearing with me. Also, just letting you know, there is a scene where Dean is sick with food poisoning, so there is a scene involving him throwing up in his bathroom.  
> There is also an unsettling letter sent to Dean towards the end of the chapter.
> 
> Just a heads up. If there is anything you feel uncomfortable by, please do not hesitate to let me know in the comments. Otherwise, enjoy!

“Did you like the roses I sent you, Your Highness?” Crowley smiled at the prince from his plate of lamb cutlets. Dean gave him a soft smile from the top of his wine glass.

“I did, my Lord, thank you,” He took a small sip of his wine and shared a conspiratorial glance with Cas from the balcony door. It was a beautiful, balmy night, and Dean didn’t want to have yet another dinner surrounded by his family, as much as he loves them. This was his second date with Crowley, and he wanted a small moment of privacy with him. As much as he could get while still at the palace. The food he was sharing with his date was sent over from Crowley’s favourite restaurant, and Dean has to admit, he likes the taste of his beef brisket from Inferno Bar and Grill. When they first met, Dean had been apprehensive of Lord Fergus Crowley, but after their first conversation Monday night, he was enjoying himself more and more. He was always a fan of people who want to drop pretences of propriety after introductions. Lord Fergus Crowley had immediately asked to be referred by his last name since he despises the name his mother blessed, or in his words, cursed, him with.

“But of course, a Lord cannot speak out of turn against their parents, even if they no longer hold any position of power over us,” He had shrugged, a devilish twinkle in his eye as he spoke. That moment cinched his position as a firm second choice for Dean. Benny was still the best contender he had, and Dean mentioned as much to Charlie as a way to avoid meeting all the others. But she wasn’t having it.

“Don’t put all your eggs into one basket, Your Highness. What if you find you’ve settled for Benny when your best option was actually just around the corner the whole time?” Charlie tutted at him. Dean rolled his eyes, ignoring the irony of Cas waltzing into the room at that very moment to announce Crowley’s arrival.

So he went along to the luncheon on Monday, grumbling in the back of his mind the entire time, until Crowley cracked a joke about the host’s perverted enjoyment of peonies. He felt lighter the rest of the day and was genuinely looking forward to this dinner date. Now he’s here, and all he can think of is how pretty Castiel’s eyes look in the glow of the twilight sky. Crowley had noticed the shift in his mood, and Dean didn’t miss the sly glance towards his bodyguard.

“Tell me, Your Highness, why are you putting yourself through these meaningless dates?” His accent was gruff and pleasing to Dean’s ear, but he still squinted at the intention behind his words.

“’Meaningless’? Sir, you wound me. I thought we were having a good time,” He leaned back, cracking a smile. Crowley raised an eyebrow and waited. Dean sighed. “It’s either do this or settle with the stupid marriage arrangement I agreed to when I was sixteen,” He fiddled with the napkin on the table.

“But, you’re the crown prince,”

“So everybody keeps reminding me,” Dean mumbled. He was _really_ starting to get sick of hearing his title thrown back in his face.

“You can do anything you want, Dean,” The comment drew Dean’s gaze back to the lord. Crowley was frowning. “Besides, a little birdie told me you’ve already made your choice,” Dean felt his nostrils flare, and the silence between them became fraught with tension. Crowley held Dean’s heated glare for a beat, flicked his gaze to Castiel, before returning to Dean with a raised eyebrow.

“What are you insinuating, my Lord?”

“Lord Benny Lafitte, of course,” Crowley dropped Dean’s gaze and poked lazily at the remnants of his dinner with his fork. “You’re keen on him, aren’t you?” The prince let out a breath he wasn’t aware he held, before giving Crowley a small smile.

“Apparently, it’s not proper to immediately jump to the first choice I have,”

“But Benny isn’t your first choice, is he? Just your first _viable_ choice,” Crowley smirked, and Dean raised an eyebrow.

“Careful, sir,”

“Forget my words. I apologise, Your Highness,” He bowed his head. “I never meant to offend.”

**********

Dean woke up covered in a hot sweat with his stomach lurching painfully. A glance at his phone on his nightstand told him it was two in the morning. A hot flush ran up his spine, and he licked his dry lips.

“Cas,” He croaked out. The word came out in a harsh whisper, and he knew even with Castiel’s excellent hearing, his bodyguard wouldn’t be able to hear him. He reached down to pull off his sticky shirt, and his stomach jumped violently. Panic swallowed his chest whole, and he could feel something else bubbling up in his chest. He carried himself as fast as he could into his ensuite bathroom, flicking the light on before dropping to his knees in front of the toilet. The bile in his chest fought its way to his lips, and he sobbed as he threw up.

“Dean?” He heard Cas’ sleep-rough voice behind him, still, the prince sobbed as he continued to vomit. His mouth was both dry and wet, and it was so upsetting. His head was pounding, and his hands shook as he grasped the side of the bowl. Gentle hands took his shoulders and rubbed soothing circles into his back. As the last of the bile dripped out of his mouth, Dean sighed and pressed his head to the cold part of the bowl.

A tanned hand held a wet wipe in front of Dean’s hazy eyes. The prince took it without comment, wiping his face clean and dropping it into the toilet bowl with the rest of his disgust. Cas ran his hand through Dean’s sweated hair, and Dean moaned softly at the gesture. He pulled his face away from the toilet and decided the cold tile of the bathroom floor was the safest space for him to curl up into. His stomach had nothing for it to throw around, so he was stuck with spasming pain and sweat. The noise of his toilet flushing and then the rush of water from his shower pulled Dean from his turmoil for a moment.

“Dean,” Cas spoke again, pressing a cold hand to the prince’s cheek. “I want you to have a shower, okay? I’ll grab you a new set of pj’s, and I’ll also pass a message onto Bobby to get your doctor here. You might have food poisoning,”

“Nope, I’m dying,” Dean croaked out.

“You’re not dying, you idiot,”

“Is that how you want your last words to your best friend to be? Insulting him?” The last few words came out in a whimper as another wave of stomach cramps hit him. The light smile on Cas’ face twisted in concern.

“You’ll be okay, Dean. I promise. Now, go have a shower and get dressed. I’ll be right outside,” With that, Cas marched out of the ensuite, shutting the door behind him.

When Dean finally managed to drag himself into the shower, taking his toothbrush and toothpaste with him, he moaned in relief as the cool water sluiced down his body. The sweat faded away, and he felt his muscles start to become less jumpy and strained. Dean brushed the worst of the bile taste out of his mouth, and when he finally felt clean enough to brave the outside of his shower, he dried himself without much pain. It was only as he rinsed out his mouth with a peppermint mouthwash that his body decided Dean had enough relief for the time being. The prince winced again as he pulled on the fresh underwear and pyjama bottoms Cas had dutifully placed by the bathroom door. He walked out of his bathroom without much complaint and met his bodyguard’s cautious stare.

“Feel a little better?” Cas murmured. Dean nodded sleepily.

“A little, but I still feel...”

“Weak?” Dean nodded again. “Go back to bed. The doctor will be here as soon as the sun rises,” Together they shared a small smile.

“Stay with me?” He mumbled as he crawled back under his covers. Cas’ eyes glistened warmly as he pulled the prince’s blankets back around him, tucking Dean in.

“I’ll watch over you.” Those words always stirred at the cockles of Dean’s heart, and the prince reached out to squeeze his friend’s hand. Cas returned the gesture and sat in the chair by Dean’s bed. Dean tried his hardest to keep his eyes on his watchful guard, and if Castiel was aware Dean spent most of the early morning watching him right back, he never mentioned it.

**********

His third date with Crowley had to be cancelled so Dean could spend the day resting up, much to his date’s chagrin. Sam was rolling his eyes as he walked into the main lobby, where Dean was standing surrounded by flowers.

“Did Crowley send you a full _garden_?” He huffed.

“Shut up, bitch. He felt bad about getting me sick,”

“Wasn’t his fault,” Cas corrected from behind him. “The restaurant also sent their apologies in the form of that crawling ivy,” He pointed towards the plant in question. The leaves were so vibrant green, Dean wondered for a moment if it was fake. Sam grabbed at the pile of letters on the end table, flicking through them, and Dean made to swipe them away from his brother.

“Oooh, letters from your admirers!” He held the pile of letters above his head where Dean couldn’t reach. The quick movement of Dean’s head made the room spin slightly, but he still tried to punch his brother in the ribs. Sam laughed. “Dean, you’re not strong enough to best me right now,”

“I might not be,” Dean smirked as he swayed. Cas brought his hands to Dean’s shoulders to steady him. “But Cas could still take you down if I asked,”

“No I wouldn’t,” Cas spoke firmly, and Sam grinned triumphantly. Dean gave Cas a look of betrayal, and his bodyguard frowned. “Your Highness, please sit down. You look horrible,”

“Gee, thanks Cas,” But Dean still stumbled into a chair, glaring between Cas and Sam. His brother gleefully peered at the return addresses from every letter.

“One from Crowley, one from Benny, one from...who’s _Alistair_?” Dean had only ever seen Cas get truly angry a handful of times, and it had never been directed at him. Watching his friend’s reaction to that name sent a chill through his body. Cas said nothing, just glared at the letter Sam held up in question. Dean shared a silent look with Sam, who offered the letter towards Cas cautiously. Cas inhaled heavily.

“That one must’ve gotten shuffled into the wrong pile,” Cas spoke lowly, a small snarl curling his lip ever so slightly. “Allow me to get rid of it, Your Highness,” He reached out to take the letter, and Sam pulled it back slightly.

“It’s addressed to Dean, though,” Sam raised an eyebrow. “You act like this isn’t the first letter Dean’s received from Alistair,”

“Wait, isn’t Alistair the guy you beat up?” Dean frowned as his bodyguard nodded solemnly. “What’s he doing sending me letters?”

“He seems to think he’d been cheated out of a chance to woo you, Your Highness,” Cas’ tone was clipped, almost clinical. “I implore the both of you to avoid any correspondence from this man. He’s not worth your time,” But Dean leaned forward and pulled the letter from Sam’s grip. “Dean, please―”

“I deserve to know what I’m being protected from, Castiel.” That effectively silenced any more protests from Cas. Dean tore the envelope open and began to read out loud. It was a simple letter, only three paragraphs.

‘ _Prince Dean Winchester,_

_I’m assuming you haven’t gotten any of my other correspondences, since you haven’t responded at all. So, with this assumption, I’ll gather these letters are only being read by your security team. Although, I do hope this one makes it through to you, my sweet prince. Because I would love to tell you exactly what I would do better than that bodyguard of yours._

_Quite a glorious specimen, isn’t he? I’ve seen the way you look at him when you think nobody’s watching, Dean. When are you going to learn, **everybody watches you?** I wonder if you think about him the same way I think about you. I also wonder if you know exactly what your darling bodyguard has done to get into the position he currently has. Did you know, for example, Castiel Novak very nearly killed me in my own house? I could’ve had him arrested, and then where would you be, beautiful? Probably in my arms, right now, nursing the wounds he left on me._

_I hope you comprehend the weight of my words, Dean. I want you right here, so I can tell you of the dreams I have had involving your striking bodyguard, and his blood and skin decorating the pretty walls of Castle Winchester. He doesn’t deserve you. You belong to me. I **will**_ _have you in my arms, my prince. I’m always here if you change your mind and decide you deserve more than just a quick fuck behind palace doors. If you think your bodyguard can give you everything you desire, you haven’t met me yet. The screams you make with him will pale compared to what I can do to you._

_Always yours,_

_Lord Alistair Devon.’_

Dean couldn’t hear anything except Cas’ heavy breathing. He avoided his friend’s gaze, choosing instead to focus on the pretty pink peonies Crowley had sent. There was nothing that could be said in response to the Lord’s words. Dean passed the letter off to Cas wordlessly before accepting the other letters from his brother, ignoring Sam’s worried stare.


End file.
